Save me, my friend
by Ms. Mimi Elphie-Amy
Summary: Sequel to 'Bring me to life' 3 months after Mark's suicide attempt, life is almost good for Mark and Roger. Until one test changes their lives forever...Can love also bloom between the 2 best friends? -mentions of rape and HIV/AIDS-SLASH- Sequel up!
1. Almost normal

**Heylo everyone! This is the long-awaited sequel to 'Bring me to life'. I know how much everyone's happy about that :)**

**Anyway, enjoy ch.1**

**A/N I don't know how long this is going to be, so bear with me.**

It has been 3 months since Mark's suicide attempt

3 long, hard, and painful months

3 loving, funny, and almost happy months

Mark stared out the window thoughtfully as Roger watched him like a hawk from the metal table. Roger's been doing that ever since, Mark gulped, the suicide attempt.

He remembered that day so clearly; he was so sick, drunk, and in pain. And then an angel came, and saved Mark from his distress. The angel held him for a long time after he broke down, and after he fell asleep, the angel began to help him.

The angel, also known as Roger, cleaned the loft of any bottles, blades, and anything else he could harm himself with. Mark knew it must've been hard to do it, but he did it. His best friend, his buddy, who saved him and cared for him.

Once the buzz was gone and Mark awoke the next morning, his longing for either alcohol or a knife was strong, and he even got a little violent. But Roger saved him yet again from grief. He kept Mark away from anything that could cause harm, and it truly did help.

Mark slowly but surely healed over the 3 months, and many times Roger had to restrain the poor man and hold him when Mark threatened to run away and find anything he could hurt himself with; a knife, glass, a dirty needle...

Finally, after the third month anniversary of Roger's return, Mark was becoming more like himself. He wasn't violent, nor was he begging to cut or drink. Roger still watched him like a hawk, but Mark knew he deserved it. After all, he did almost commit suicide three months ago...

"You should eat."

..."What?"

"Eat. You haven't eaten since yesterday's lunch. You should eat, since Benny's paying for it all."

"When are you going to forgive him?"

Roger pretended to think about it, and answered with a curt, "Never. That son of a bitch let you hurt yourself, and you almost died that night. I don't forgive easily; especially since our ex-friend almost let you _die_."

It was around a week since Roger returned when said incident happened. Roger had to reluctantly call Benny to watch over Mark so he could gather his stuff from the singer's house he stayed in for that very long month apart.

When Roger returned a little while later, he was met by a bleeding, almost unconscious Mark with a knife in his hand in the middle of the living room. Everything happened in a flurry. Roger ran over to Mark, and took off his shirt so he could stop the bleeding; Roger calling out for Benny, and kept muttering, "Oh, shit. Oh, shit..." under his breath; Mark became dizzy and blacking out; Mark vaguely hearing Roger yell into the phone, "YOU ASSHOLE! YOU _BELIEVED _HIM WHEN HE SAID 'I'M FINE'? YOU MOTHER FUCKER, HE WAS _LYING_! YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO DISTINGUISH A LIE SINCE YOU'RE A LIAR YOURSELF YOU SON OF A BITCH! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU _LEFT_ HIM! YOU FUCKER!"; him waking up to bandages on his arms and a worried and pissed off Roger sitting beside the bed he was in (that he did not remember getting into).

After that, Roger never left the house, and made Benny get the groceries, medicine, and everything else, since Roger refused to let that night go, and used it to make Benny guilty and buy them stuff and pay for everything.

"He didn't almost let me die, Rog. And remember, _I _tricked _him_. It's not his fault; he honestly thought I was okay."

"Just shut up, Mark. You were barely conscious. You don't know what you're talking about." Roger sighed, talking a bite from his Captain Crunch.

"Shut up yourself." Mark muttered under his breath as Roger suddenly got up from his seat and moved throughout the kitchen. Mark ignored him of course, until Roger was right in front of him, and was holding out a bowl of Captain Crunch in his hand.

"I'm not hungry."

"I don't care. E-A-T."

"Can't make me."

"Oh yes I can. I can pin you to the floor and make you eat it. You know I can pin you down easily."

"Roger..." Mark warned.

"Mark...You're way too skinny for my liking. Eat."

"Rog..."

"_Markkk."_ Roger whined, holding out the bowl until it was right in front of Mark's face. Despite the fact that Mark wasn't hungry, he sighed and took it anyway. Mark took a small bite, and rolled his eyes. "Happy?"

"Extremely."

"Whatever."

~~~~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~~~

"Here, Mark. An extra blanket. I don't get it though. It's warming up outside, and the heat is on full blast...yet there you are, shivering like hell yet sweating like crazy."

"I'm sick Rog; go away." Mark chattered, the extra blanket not warming him up at all.

"Pfft. Yeah, okay, that's _so _going to happen."

"I guess I deserve that."

Suddenly, Roger came over to Mark, and sat beside him on the couch. "Come 'ere." Roger said, opening his arms. "I-I gue-guess." Mark stuttered, and instantly moved closer to a warm Roger. "Jeez, Mark, your freezing."

"I-I don't c-care."

"Well I do. The moment you've gotten over this cold and are able to hold something in, I'm feeding you until you're at least 300 lbs."

"Good luck with that." Mark whispered, trying to keep the rising bile in his stomach.

The war didn't last long though; Mark lost the instant it came into his mouth. He ripped himself out of Roger's embrace, and ran towards the bathroom. He heaved up anything that was in his stomach (which wasn't much; a small piece of toast and some coffee), and soon enough everything was emptied and all he was doing was dry heaves.

Roger stayed close the whole time; rubbing Mark's back, placing a cool hand on his forehead, whispering "It's okay." Like it was a mantra. The rocker still didn`t really know how to help the filmmaker, so he did whatever Mark did himself during his withdrawal.

"Dude, you`re throwing up way too much. We should take you to the doctor's." Roger commented, still patting Mark's back, despite the fact that most of the throwing up was over.

"N-No. You k-know how much I h-hate the fuck-fucking doctor's." Mark stuttered, being overwhelmed by chills.

"Hey, hey. I'll get you some water, and you can curl up on the couch with a large blanket, alright? By the way," Roger said, filling up a nearby glass with tap water, "if your 'cold' gets any worse, you're going to the doctor, and I don't _care_ how much you hate them."

"Fine." Mark groaned not up to discussion.

~~~~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~~~

"Mark? Where you going?"

"Out."

"_Out?" _Roger said incredulously.

"Rog, I'm not going to go look for alcohol or something sharp. My addictions aren't as powerful as yours was."

"Want me to come with you?"

"No Rog. I'm only going out to film. I miss filming."

Roger smiled, "Okay. Awesome. I can't wait to see the footage."

Mark smiled back, even though he knew he wouldn't be getting any footage today.

~~~~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~~~

"Hello, Mr. Cohen. I'm Dr. Strouss, and I'll be doing your HIV test today. First, I'll like to ask you a few questions."

"Okay." Mark sighed, his nerves building up. He decided to lie to Roger this morning so he wouldn't have to tell him what Mark suspected was the 'cold'. Mark gulped. He was _so _nervous. He didn't want HIV, but he had too many symptoms for comfort.

_**Fever and/or night sweats. **_

He's had that for the past week, which was why at first they thought it was a cold.

_**Easy bruising.**_

He got a bruise on his hand from falling off the couch in his sleep.

_**Bouts of extreme exhaustion**_

Some days, he just wants to sleep and not get up.

_**Unexplained weight loss.**_

Roger didn't know it, but in the past month or so, he lost 26 pounds, making him only 102 lbs. He thought it was from the lack of food, but even on the days that there was a lot of hunger; Mark still managed to lose 3-5 pounds.

_**Vomiting.**_

It happened at least once a day now ever since that first night when Roger suggested the doctor's.

"First question: how would you have contracted HIV?"

"I…slept with a man 3 months ago." It wasn't the truth of course. He didn't want to tell the doctor that the man refused to pay for the service, but still wanted sex. He didn't want to tell her that he fucking took what he wanted in an alley without Mark's consent.

He didn't want to tell her he was raped.

"Did you use protection?"

"No."

"Was the man HIV+?"

"I don't know."

"So, you slept with a man without protection, and didn't ask if he was HIV+?"

"That's right."

"Okay, M. Cohen. What else…What symptoms do you have? Just to see if it could be anything else."

"Fever & night sweats, weight loss that doesn't make any sense, I'm tired all the time, vomiting, and I easily bruise now."

"And you think it's HIV?"

"Yes…Do you think it could be HIV?"

"Probably, M. Cohen."

"Okay…"

**DUN DUN DUN DUN…Could Mark have HIV? Who knows…**


	2. Finding out

**Wow, two reviews? I'm **_**shocked!**_** Anyway, another two wouldn't hurt me *wink***

**So anyway, the results are in! HIV+ or HIV-? Read and find out!**

"Hey Mark?"

"Yeah, Rog."

"Why are you just _waiting _by the phone?"

"I...I…met a woman while I was out the other day." Mark lied, moving away from the phone.

"Really?" Roger asked, sound disbelieving.

"Yeah. Her name is Yvonne." _Man, I'm good at lying on the spot._

What he was really waiting for was the HIV test results. It's been at least a week since he gave blood to see if he was positive. And for that he's been waiting patiently. But now…he _needed _to know. He _needed _to plan, and if he was negative, he needed to be relieved of the constant stress of not knowing.

"Hmm…is she French?"

"What?" Mark asked, slightly smiling.

"You know, that's a French-ass name, Yvonne."

Mark just rolled his eyes at Roger who was sitting at the window, attempting to write a song. He has been trying to write a song ever since Mark recovered from his addictions. But nothing came to his mind other than _hope_, and _strength_.

"I don't think she's going to call though, I mean it's been awhile—"Mark started.

_Ring…Ring…Ring…_

Mark immediately grabbed the phone, and held it up to his ear. "_Hello?_"

"_Hello? Is Roger home dearie? It's his mother." _

Mark sighed. He _hated _when this happened. This happened at least 5 times by now. It annoyed him and worried him to no end.

"Rog, it's your mother." Mark sighed, holding out the phone.

"Aww, Mark, you should've screened," Roger groaned, taking the phone from Mark, "_Hello?"_

Mark sighed again, and put his head in his hands. _The doctor's 2 days late…I_ need _to know…_

"I'm going out." Mark grumbled, getting up and grabbing his coat.

"_Hold on, Mom. _What Mark?"

"I'm going out."

"'Kay. See yah in a bit. _What Mom? Yes mom, I know I haven't talked to you in a while…"_

~~~~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~~~

Roger sighed as he hit the wrong note _again_. Man, he couldn't even play _Musetta's Waltz_ anymore.

Roger blamed it on the stress.

It's been a hard four months. First, he ditches Mark, and suffers the whole month he's gone, and then discovers Mark drunk and so very close to jumping off a building.

And the whole 3-month healing process. That wasn't as hard as he thought it would be, thankfully. The only hard part about it was discovering Mark with his wrists split open and bleeding on the ground…when Benny was supposed to be _watching_ him.

That sight was one of the scariest he's ever seen. To see Mark give up like that, Mark almost _die_ in his arms, was the one thing he hoped would never happen again.

But now, Mark was okay. He was fine. He hasn't touched or attempted to touch a knife, nor has he begged for booze. He was mostly healthy, and everything was alright. Alright…_alright…_

_Ring…ring…ring…_

_Please let it not be my mother._ He mentally groaned, sitting there and waiting for the machine.

_Ring…ring…ring…SPEAK!_

Roger smiled slightly. Despite the fact he left, Mark still kept that answering message. It was amazing what friendship does to you…

"_Hello? This is Dr. Strouss from the Hamilton's Free Clinic,"_ Roger frowned. Free clinic? Who went to a free clinic? Roger didn't, so maybe—

"_I'm calling for Mark Cohen—"_

"_Hello?"_ Roger cried, grabbing the phone.

"_Hello, M. Cohen?"_

"_No, Roger Davis, his roommate."_

"_Oh, well, hello. I'm assuming you can give M. Cohen a message for me?"_ the doctor with the slight English accent asked.

"_Yes, I can." _Roger whispered, getting more worried by the second.

"_Well, we just got back his HIV test results—"_

The world froze for a second for Roger.

"_Wait a sec; did you just say HIV test results?" _Roger finally managed to whisper gently. He was shaking all over, and he felt like throwing up.

"_Yes, M. Davis, I did."_

_Oh my God…How didn't I see it? _Roger thought, tears building in his eyes.

"_Can you tell him to call me back whenever he can?" _the doctor sighed.

"_S-Sure."_

"_Thank you. Have a good day."_

"_Y-You t-too."_ Roger stuttered, and the phone fell from his hands.

_Mark…HIV+?...No way…_

Roger collapsed onto the couch as tears fell from his eyes. _Please God, no…no no no...Not my Mark…no no…NO!_

Roger got up hastily and began running through the loft, throwing anything in sight. Things broke left and right, and things went flying in the air. Nothing was safe from Roger's wrath. By the time Roger's anger was almost gone, and it was sunset, it looked like a tornado ripped through the loft. Angry tears wetted Roger's red face. He ran his fingers through his long blond hair, and he was shaking everywhere.

He couldn't deal…He _couldn_'_t_ deal...He…_no…_

"Rog? I'm home…What happened?" Mark asked, looking confused as he eyed everything in the room. The room was a mess, and everything was everywhere. Broken glass, shredded paper, things pulled apart, dents everywhere. It was like a withdrawal episode…except Roger wasn't going through withdrawal and Roger didn't look as mad.

Roger just stared at his best friend for a minute, and then his anger kicked in. "Why Mark? _Why didn't you tell me?"_

"Tell you what?" Mark asked nervously.

"Cut the bullshit Mark. I know you took a test," Mark stiffened at that, "an _HIV_ test. You wanna tell me something Mark?" Roger asked.

"I-I-I…"

"Did you get it from a customer, huh? A protectionless, HIV+ bastard customer that fucked you for what, 100$?" Roger spat, angry beyond words.

"I didn't know he was HIV+." Was all Mark whispered.

"So you did get it from a fucking customer. You did it _without protection?_ You fucking idiot. You fucking _whore_."

Mark's eyes filled with tears. He probably could've told Roger he was…taken advantage of, but he felt embarrassed. He didn't want to tell Roger he was raped, he was forced; he cut so deep that night that he almost died with Roger in the next room.

"I'm not doing it anymore."

"So. It doesn't _fucking _matter. You still did it, and now you're getting the consequences of your stupid actions."

"I…I have to go." Mark whispered, running out of the loft.

"Where are you going you bastard? Get back here!" Roger cried, following Mark.

Roger may have been stronger, but Mark was faster. Mark ran with all his energy and Roger attempted to follow. But it didn't work. Roger lost him after he left the building.

"_Fuck."_

**Ooh, is Mark HIV+? Is Roger acting way too stupid? Is Roger going to find him? Am I asking way too many questions? Only one way to find out: read on**


	3. Finding Mark

**Chapter 3 is up! Wow, 5 reviews already? Yippee! Keep those reviews coming please? Anyway, I decided to keep you hanging here, because I'm evil like that. But don't worry, next chapter has the definite results! So keep up! :)**

**Anyway, RENT isn't mine obviously, and remember peoplez, R&R!**

"Where the hell would he have gone? Where could he have gone?" Roger cried, pacing back and forth in the loft. He was nervous, and he was worried, and he was fuckin' pissed off. With himself, with Mark, with—

"Fuck you all! I can't believe you just all got up and ditched us! Mo, you should be here fussing over where to search for him, Joanne should be here with the car...Collins, you should have _been here_ when this all started, or at least here to help me look for him. Benny...Benny! No, he'll be on the bottom of my list if I can't find him. Mark, _fuck_, where are you?" Roger ranted, upset and running his fingers through his hair repeatedly.

The loft was a mess around him, and Roger was a mess too. God, what did he _do_? He couldn't believe what he did. He yelled at his best friend when _he_ felt upset.

How about Mark? How did he feel about the whole thing? Knowing Mark, he probably felt even worse than Roger did. Especially after all they've both been through together with AIDS.

And now Roger had to find him and apologize, something he rarely did, and then they'd have to go to the Free Clinic together to find out if he was + or -. Either way it went, they'd have to get through it together, and survive no matter what. That's what friends are for, right?

_Where should I check? God, I should've let him explain himself...Central Park? No, too many hobos. The Life? Why the fuck would he go there? Maybe to try to remember all the fun stuff we all used to do together and when I wasn't such an asshole...The cemetery? Too dark...Where the hell—..._

It was then Roger saw something on pinned to the wall near the kitchen. It was a little pin board, full of crap like addresses and events.

"_Rog, I'm only going to be gone for awhile, okay?"_

"_Mark, I'm not 5. Plus, Collins will be here. I feel like I should be the one comforting you."_

"_Shut up. This is one of the first times I'm leaving you since the withdrawal—"_

"_I'm. Going. To. Be. Fine. Get it? Fine."_

"_Alright, alright. Look, just look at the board for a sec okay? Emergency phone numbers are on there—"_

"_Shouldn't you tell Collins this? He's the babysitter."_

"_Shut up. Just listen for my sakes, okay?" _

"_Whatever."_

"_Anyways, the number for Maureen and Benny are on here too, and the Free Clinic's number is right there—"_

The Free Clinic!

Roger raced to the pin board and looked over it. Maureen's last protest, a pizza place, the Life (why would they have the number for the Life?), the Community Center—

"I got it!" Roger cried, ripping off the card for the Free Clinic. _555-6644...For people who can't afford medi— yadadada...Aha! The Clinic is at Avenue A!_

Roger never ran faster in his entire life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he finally found the Clinic (it was a tiny building surrounded by big buildings, you do the math), he stood outside of it thinking.

_Mark's Fate is in there. Mark's death sentence could be said in there and the fight could begin. Mark and I could leave there HIV+ and best friends. For all I know, Mark could die before me...But I've had it longer than he has!...But I'm stronger...He can't die...Not now, not before me...it's not fair...it's not...I can't do this...I _can't_...but I have to...for the group, our family...for Mark...for me._

His inner battle was stopped instantly though when a woman came out. Her hair was died a bright orange, red, and yellow, she had a nose ring, and was thinner than a twig. She leaned against the rusting railing, and she took out a cigarette from her blue case. She lit it, and stood there silently until—

"Who're you?"

"Oh, h-hi. I'm looking for—"Roger whispered, his voice cracking.

"The Clinic? It's right in front of yah, mate." The Australian girl sighed, pointing to the building.

"No, actually, I'm looking for my friend."

"And you think he's in here?"

"Yes." Roger whispered, looking down.

"Now, why would he be in here mate? Beat up on the way from work? Twisted his ankle on his fire escape? Unprotected sex—"

An involuntary noise came from the back of Roger's throat, and tears built up in his eyes for the umpteenth time. This confirmed the girl's suspicions.

"Ah. Your guy's in there 'cause you couldn't find a condom?" the girl asked, raising an eyebrow

"No, believe me if I was the one that gave it to him...I'd kill myself." Roger whispered, simply because it was the truth.

"Ah...is he a cheater?" the girl asked, and Roger laughed.

"No. _Fucking._ Way. Mark, cheat? No way. He's too...nice to hurt someone else voluntarily." Roger realized, and it was true. This statement only reminded Roger that Mark was probably hurting worse than Roger because of the possibility he hurt his best friend's feelings by being HIV+.

"Wait, Mark? Oh yah, that guy. Poor bastard."

Roger's ears perked up, "What do you mean?"

The girl laughed, though it wasn't a true one at all. It was fake, and by the sound of it, it sounded like an angry laugh.

"The poor guy came in here crying like half an hour ago, buddy. Since there were no other patients around, I talked to him and he poured his big ol' heart out into my lap. So you're the angry best friend who chased him away when he needed you most? Man, I'd hate to be in that position my friend." The girl scoffed, now looking upset.

"Crying?" was all Roger was able to say. _Mark? Crying? This must be serious..._

"Yep. It was a sad sight I must say. I almost broke down myself. All I could think was, _who could've broken this guy's heart so badly?_ Now I know who. You're lucky I haven't been in Ji Jitsu for a couple years or you'd be in the emergency right now man." The girl said boldly, stomping out her smoke.

"I believe you. Now, excuse me." Roger said, walking up the stairs. But just as he was going to go inside, a pale arm blocked his way. "Don't go in there if you're going to hurt him man."

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"Yes." Roger sighed.

"Pinky promise?"

"Yes whoever you are. Now, please move?"

"It's Lisa. And yes, go ahead."

When Roger entered the Clinic, the atmosphere instantly when from muggy and chilly to sickly and sadness. Roger didn't like the sudden change, and shuddered underneath his leather jacket.

The jacket was a gift from Mark when Roger was just getting over withdrawal. When it was over, the temperature swings stopped; therefore Roger started to feel the coldness of October. As an early birthday present, Mark bought it for him. God knows how much food or heat it cost Mark to do this.

But he didn't seem to care.

Ever since, the jacket came apart of Roger, like the other very old and worn out jacket before it, that now couldn't warm up shit anymore.

Roger looked around him, searching the small waiting room for his pale, red-headed friend. Roger thanked the heaven's that Mark already had his jacket on when he stormed out, because it was still freezing despite the fact it was March already.

It didn't take long before Roger spotted Mark. The small and fragile filmmaker sat there, cuddled around his camera. His eyes were red, and he was staring at nothing. His pale form was slightly red, especially around his cheeks and nose, and he seemed utterly upset. He was shaking, and Roger saw that there were more tears building up. Roger also saw another look in his eyes..._craving_. And Roger knew what he was craving for. _Time to distract him before it's too late._

"Mark?" Roger said, though it came out more as a whisper.

Mark looked up instantly, and groaned when he saw Roger, and flinched as if Roger was going to strike him.

"Mark, I'm not here to get mad...I'm here to...apologize." Roger whispered through clenched teeth. He hated apologizing, but he did do it if he had to, if he knew what he did was wrong.

Mark's eyes widened, and stared at Roger. Roger moved forward, and sat beside Mark. "Look, I know I overreacted. I acted like the biggest jerk in the world when I found out, and I was wrong to assume you have..." Roger couldn't finish the sentence, "I just wished you told me, Mark." Roger felt tears in his own eyes, and he fought against them.

"I-I was af-afraid you would act o-out like you did." Mark explained, chattering.

Roger took off his leather jacket and placed it on Mark's shoulders and leaned his forehead against Mark's. "I'm so sorry. I thought about only myself." Roger whispered, and realized that he actually meant it.

"I-It's alright. I know why you reacted so, so—"

"Mark, I had no right to react the way I did."

"I kind of think your right."

Roger smiled slightly, and grabbed Mark's hand. "Are we okay?"

"Yeah." Mark smiled, and pulled away. It was then, Roger felt a pull at his heart. It wasn't a pity pull at how pale and sick Mark looked, and it wasn't a happy pull. It was...a strange feeling.

Roger felt _sad_ that Mark pulled away from him so quickly. And he also had a happy feeling deep inside him that he was still holding Mark's hand.

_Whoa...wait...I'm not supposed to be feeling this way! He's my best friend...! And I'm straight...I think? Maybe...I did sleep with that guy once before April...And I remember slightly having some feelings for Mark before April came along...But Mark's my best friend, I can't feel this way...! I'm so confused—_

"Mark Cohen?" a nurse suddenly asked. The boys looked up in unison.

_This is it..._


	4. AN IGNORE!

Hey people! **Eragon's Princess** here!

Bad news people :(

I'm sad to say that each and every story on this account is on hiatus because of the fact that my computer went down, therefore erasing all of the planned chapters for my stories. So, pretty much you guys are going to have to be patient as I rewrite everything and get my computer back up

Sorry to my readers! The moment I have something, you'll all be the first to know

**-EP15**


	5. The results

**I'm back! :) Sorry about leaving you guys on such a cliffhanger**

**Finally, the results are in! (No, I'm not lying this time) remember to review please! Tell me how I'm doing! You know you want to...**

Recap:

"Mark Cohen?" a nurse suddenly asked. The boys looked up in unison.

_This is it..._

~~~~~::~~~~~

Roger slightly squeezed Mark's hand as they stood up together, both with worried eyes and hopes. Hope that this test would come back negative...hope they'd be _alright..._

The nurse looked at the two men in confusion. It took the boys a few seconds to realize why she was confused. "Oh...this guy's Mark Cohen. I'd just really appreciate it if I could go in with him. This is really important to us..." Roger whispered, pointing at Mark with one hand and squeezing Mark's hand with the other.

Mark squeezed back, and Roger could see the pure fear in his eyes. Pure fear and sadness and worry and confusion and...So many emotions were swirling inside Mark's blue eyes. Roger knew he must've caused at least one of those emotions, what with his yelling and then apologizing. He seemed so upset, and all Roger wanted to do was kiss those worries away...

Roger sighed as that feeling overcame him again. _What's with these strange feelings? I've never felt them...at least towards Mark...well, I did before April, but I barely recognized them...wait, stop. Stop thinking about this. You have to help Mark...stay there for Mark..._

The nurse gave a knowing smile towards the two men, as if she knew what was brewing inside Roger's mind, and just whispered with a smile, "Right this way."

The men of course could have corrected her for her assumption of them being gay...of them being _together..._but the men didn't even think about it. They didn't care.

All Roger cared about was the man beside him, who was trembling and sweating beside him like he was going to his execution..._Which he kind of is if the news came back..._Roger could barely make himself think the word, _positive._

All Mark cared about was his best friend and the news. He didn't know how Roger would react to him being positive. He liked to think that Roger would be supportive and caring, and would help him through getting used to the fact that his body was slowly _dying_...but after what happened with Santa Fe and the from fight from 4 months ago, he was rightly scared of Roger just...running away again. If he did, Mark knew he wouldn't be able to deal with it. If Roger did leave...he's actually get away with silting his wrists and joining his best friends up there in heaven (there's no way they'd end up in hell...they were all just too good).

When they finally made it to the room, Roger was now shaking slightly, and Mark was as well as having a panic attack. Roger tried to calm him down with tight squeezes and rubbing his hand up and down Mark's back, but it didn't work. Mark was still upset, and Roger needed to help him.

The moment the nurse left the two inside the room, Roger led Mark into a chair, and Roger kneeled in front of his hyperventilating friend.

"Mark...Mark! Listen to me, okay? Mark?" Roger asked, taking his hand out of Mark's (Roger could've swore he heard Mark whimper when he did so), and he placed both his calloused hands on Mark's pale cheeks.

Mark's blue, child-like eyes stared into Roger's emerald ones, and Roger sighed. He was at least getting somewhere.

"Mark, listen to me. It'll be alright, okay? Nothing bad will happen. If you turn out positive—"Mark whimpered, "It'll be okay. Because I'll be here, and I'll take care of you. No matter what, I _will_ be here. I won't run away."

Mark seemed to calm down a little, and moved his hands down from Mark's cheeks to Mark's clammy hands. "There you go buddy. You'll be fine. I'll help you in any way I can, just like I've helped you in the past 3 months. Okay? And this time, if I want to go to Santa Fe—"Mark's ragged breathing slightly became quicker, "I'm going to take you with me. Alright? Anywhere I go, you'll go. Anywhere you go, I'll go too." Roger whispered, placing one hand on Mark's cheek. Mark stared at him, and as Roger looked in Mark's eyes, he could've sworn he saw a little love there.

A feeling in Roger's gut had him moving closer to Mark. Mark's head was moving too, until their lips were only inches apart. _Move a little bit closer..._ Roger thought. Their lips were almost touching—

"Hello Mark, how are you—Oops, I'm thinking I'm interrupting something here." A slightly British voice said. Roger knew that voice...it was Mark's doctor.

_Of course you're interrupting something! I was about to kiss _Mark,_ and you had to interrupt! _That was the first time in Roger's life that he wanted to hurt a woman...except when Mimi cheated on him and when Maureen annoyed him. But that didn't count.

Mark pulled away instantly, and smiled shakily up at 'Dr. Strouss'. "Hi. Don't worry, you're not interrupting us. My friend was trying to calm me down. I was a little nervous about coming here today."

Roger felt a little hurt by Mark's words. 'You're not interrupting us'?...'Friend'? _Stop this...you need to be there for Mark. Stop thinking about your selfish needs and think about Mark for once._ Roger sighed, and knew that his mind was right. He needed to be there for Mark.

"Oh, so is this the friend that I talked to with on the phone?" Dr. Strouss asked Roger curiously. Understanding flickered in Mark's eyes. _So that's why Roger was upset. They called while I was away..._

"Yes, that's me." Roger smiled as he straightened up and put out his hand. Dr. Strouss shook Roger's hand politely, and then motioned the men to sit down.

"So, Mark, I'm assuming you want your friend—"

"Roger." Mark corrected.

"Okay, I'm assuming you want Roger here to find out the news?"

"Yes, Dr." Mark whispered, sighing shakily. Roger again grabbed Mark's hand from the chair beside the bed, and Mark took it gratefully.

"Okay then. So, how have you been feeling Mark?" the doctor asked as she opened Mark's file.

Mark almost broke down then and there. He needed to know the news _now._ He needed to know if he was dying...he needed to know if he had HIV.

Roger seemed to sense Mark's distress, and quietly whispered, "Doc, I think Mark wants to know the news now I'm afraid. It's been a tough day for both of us, and we'd like to know right away."

"Okay then. Let's see," It was then the doctor's face darkened.

_Oh shit._ Roger thought, and looked up at Mark. He was staring wide eyed at the doctor, and Roger could see the tears already forming in Mark's eyes.

"Mr. Cohen...I'm afraid to say you aren't HIV+."

Both Mark and Roger frowned at the doctor's choice of words. Not HIV+? Then what's...

"You _had _HIV... your HIV virus has developed into AIDS."

**Ooh...What **_**will**_** happen? R & R people!**


	6. Will I?

**Okay guys, here's your next chapter. Can't leave you guys in the dark for too long now can I? BTW thank you SO MUCH for all the reviews! 17 already? I'm VERY Proud! :D Hope you enjoy this next chapter (and cliffy...mwahaha! i'm evil like that).**

**Anyway, on a side note, if you have probably already noticed this might be longer then **_**Bring me to life,**_** and I promise you this is going to go on for a long time. I've already planned out many future chapters, and if I have my way it might last for at least 5-10 more chapters! I can hear you guys just cheering in the background.**

**Anyway R&R people!**

_** Recap:**_

"_**You **_**had **_**HIV...your HIV virus has already developed into AIDS."**_

~~~~~~::~~~~~~~

The room was enveloped in silence. Nothing made a noise, not even the breathing of the 3 occupants inside the room. The two men in the room stared in shock at the doctor, as if Dr. Strouss had told Mark he was pregnant with triplets.

Finally, the silence was broken with, "_What?_"

Mark and the doctor looked over at Roger, whose mouth was open like a fish's. His eyes were wide, and Mark could see the shock and sadness in them. _No...I`m the one whose supposed to have AIDS...not Mark, not my buddy, my best friend...not the one to survive. The one to survive can`t leave me here alone...He can`t!_

Meanwhile, Mark was numb. He found himself detaching yet again, holding onto his camera as if for dear life. _This isn't happening to me...this must be happening to someone else...Roger! This is happening to Roger!...but...this isn't happening to Roger. Roger would be sobbing by now if it was him...but it can't be me...I'm supposed to have HIV, then AIDS...not AIDS right away...oh my God, this is happening to me..._me..._ME!_

"I'm so sorry...I'll leave you two alone for a bit, and then when I come back we'll discuss your options Mark." The doctor whispered sadly, and then quietly left the room. Leaving the two heartbroken boys alone.

The room was enveloped in silence again. No one dared to move, to _breathe_. As if they could stop time by not moving, and then redo the past. But both boys knew that life didn't happen that way...You do whatever you do, and then you deal with happiness or the consequences of your actions...Too bad that the "consequences" of Mark's actions was a death sentence.

_It wasn't your fault...It wasn't your fault..._Mark repeated to himself over and over again like a mantra. But that sentence didn't help him at all. That sentence didn't make Mark feel any less guilty for having something he swore to himself he would never get.

Finally Roger moved to look at Mark, and was shocked to see Mark's face. It wasn't tear-streaked, or scared and just plain angry like Roger's was. No, Mark's face...was almost empty. Dead. There was no emotion, and Roger knew instantly that he was detaching.

Roger got up carefully, and moved in front of Mark. "Mark? Mark?" Roger asked, again kneeling in front of Mark. Mark barely recognized Roger's existence, and just stared emotionlessly into the distance.

"Mark, don't you _dare._" Roger hissed, which caused Mark to look up.

"Don't do what exactly?" Mark asked innocently.

"Don't detach Mark." Roger curtly replied.

"I'm not." Mark said stubbornly, gritting his teeth. _How dare he...I can't let myself feel. If I let myself feel, I'll never stop feeling. I'll never stop sobbing, or stop yelling. I won't be able to stop, and he doesn't realize it. _Mark thought, staring at his roommate.

"Yes you are...I can see it in your eyes **(A/N Your eyes as we said our goodbyes, can't get them out of my mind Lol sorry I couldn't help myself)**." Roger said, just as stubborn.

Anger welled up inside Mark. _Leave me alone Roger._

But just as the anger came, it went with this thought. _Leave me alone Roger...that's exactly what I thought the night we had the fight. When Roger was just trying to help..._Mark realized suddenly what Roger's motives were; he was just trying to help him. Help him _feel_.

_But I can't feel. I'm the rock. I can't feel._

"Look, Rog, just please leave it alone." Mark whispered, hanging his head. That was the snapping point for Roger.

"_Leave. It. Alone? _Tell me you're joking. Dammit, Mark, feel! Feel goddammit! Feel angry at the man who forgot his fucking condom when he fucked you. Feel upset because your life has been cut short. Feel sad that because since you have AIDS you might go first," and it was then that Roger made a decision, one that would change both men's lives forever, "Feel incredibly happy, when I do this—"

It was then that Roger leaned in, and finally kissed Mark.

It was a small kiss, but it was better and longer then a peck on the lips, but shorter and less rough then a full make-out session.

It was just a sweet kiss, a kiss that neither man has ever had before.

With Nannette it was a short peck to show everyone that neither Nannette or Mark was gay, and with Maureen, it was always a sexual and/or a rough kiss, and 3/4th's of them always led to sex.

With April and countless other groupies, it was always a lust-filled kiss, that _always _led them to sex, and with Mimi, they were either short and sweet to show that they loved each other, or a needy kiss.

Never had the men ever shared a kiss so sweet, so emotion-filled, so _loving_. A kiss that made time stop, or made a thousand fireworks go off all at the same time.

And neither could believe that they were sharing this magical kiss that you only read about from fairy tales with each other.

When the kiss was over, when Roger pulled away, when time finally started to move again, both men were panting heavily. Roger stared into Mark's eyes, and Mark stared back. It was like finding out Mark had AIDS all over again. No one dared to breathe, to move. They just at each other, and as they did Roger saw three emotions in Mark's eyes; shock, confusion, and..._love_.

When time started moving normally again, Mark blinked quickly and frowned. "Roger...why'd you do that?" Mark asked breathlessly.

Mark's voice brought Roger back to reality, and once that happened everything went haywire. For a second Roger just stared at Mark, and then backed up hastily when he realized what he just did. _I just kissed my roommate, my best friend! And I fucking liked it!_ Roger back up even father, and ran a nervous hand through his hair. _Fuck, what did I do?_

"Rog?" Mark asked, a little nervously this time. Roger could see that his confusion and shock was replaced by fear, and Roger knew what his fear was; _that I'll run away._ But the urge to run was powerful, and before Roger knew it he was at the door, trying to turn the knob.

"Rog, please don't." Mark's trembling voice whispered, and Roger felt like he would collapse. He needed to get out, but how was he when his best friend needed him? _C'mon you fucking knob, turn!_

Roger sighed in relief when the door finally opened, and he felt a huge weight tumble off his shoulders when his foot stepped out. _I have to leave, I have to leave, I have to leave—_

"Roger?"

Roger stepped out fully and closed the door behind him.

~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~~

Mark stared at the closed door.

_No, he didn't just...no...Why did he...?...He left. _

_He just left me_

_He just fucking left me here!_

_Will I lose my dignity?_

Despite Mark's protesting blinking, tears still managed to escape, and before Mark knew it he was sobbing into his hands. He let emotion fill him up until he was breaking at the seams. Sadness because he had AIDS, that he might be the first to die, and over the fact that the man he had loved for years before this just left the room after making Mark's wishes come true. Anger because of the man who took advantage of him and who ruined his life forever. Anger at himself for waiting 5 ½ months before getting tested. Pain, pain, _pain _at being rejected. _Pain, anger, sadness, pain, anger, sadness, pain anger sadness pain anger sadness..._Tears fell endlessly, and soon his hands were coated with tears, and his shirt and face were soaked. Mark knew vaguely that he was having a breakdown, but he didn't seem to care.

_I let myself feel and Roger walks away..._

_Will someone care?_

His sobs made Mark shake uncontrollably.

He vaguely heard the door open and heard a woman gasp "Oh my!", and he distantly felt someone with bright fiery hair encircle Mark with her arms and hold Mark tightly, rubbing his back and whispering softly in his ear.

But he didn't care.

Only two things repeated in his mind

_I have fucking AIDS_

_And Roger's gone_

_Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?_


	7. Run away, don't commit, full of SHIT!

**Thank you guys so much for all the feedback! Here's another addition to the **_**Save me, my friend**_**!**

_**Recap:**_

_**Only two things repeated in his mind**_

**I have fucking AIDS**

**And Roger's gone**

**Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?**

**~~~~~::~~~~~~**

When sobs interrupted from the room Roger just left, Roger was almost convinced to go back.

Almost.

_Mark's crying, he needs me..._was the instinctive thought that was on his mind. He guessed that it came from 3 months of taking care of a Mark who was going through withdrawal from his cutting and booze, and who was in serious pain at the time. But he fought against that instinct with all his strength.

_I can't be in there. I just...I can't. Stupid idiot. I can't _believe _I let myself kiss him!_

Roger walked briskly down the hall, running his fingers through his hair over and over again (a nervous habit that seemed to be going haywire from all of this). His hands were shaking—no, scratch that, his whole _body_ was shaking crazily, as if possessed. And no matter what he did, he couldn't stop the shaking.

He finally found the door to the waiting room, and busted through it. The room was empty, and the only noises were coming Lisa. A screamo band, humming, and popping bubble gum resounded throughout the room, and it strangely enough calmed down Roger a bit.

The key word in that sentence was _a bit_.

Roger quickly walked over to the front door of the clinic, still shaking and even a little bit nervous about being stopped by—

"Wait!" _Speak of the devil._

For split second (before he recognized the voice) Roger was afraid it was the roommate he left behind, whose eyes were probably red and his spirit broken, but quickly relaxed when he heard that it was definitely a feminine voice, with a slight Aussie accent—

_Shit. It's Lisa._

Roger almost kept on going right on through the door, but a small but strong hand landed on his shoulder, and it forbids him from moving forward.

_Double shit._

Roger growled, and turned slightly to see a slightly pissed off Lisa standing there, hands on her hips and confusion in her eyes.

_Fuck._

"Where in this world do you think _you're_ going?" Lisa asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Home." Was the curt reply.

"_Home?_ Well, where's Mark?"

"Still in the examining room."

"Oh my fucking God," Roger was slightly shocked that the young Lisa was swearing, "are you honestly just going to leave him here?"

That Roger didn't expect. _How the hell did she figure out my motives so quickly? Maybe my going towards the door without Mark gave her a hint._

"Yes." Roger curtly replied, trying not to think about it the way she probably was.

_Traitorous, hurtful best friend_

"No. _Fucking._ Way. _Please_ tell me you were not just going to walk out that door, therefore breaking Mark's heart yet again _within a few hours_?" Lisa begged, probably hoping to hear, "Of course not. I just need a breather." But too bad Roger Davis was always one to show the painfully honest truth, not one for fantasies and denial (well, he only denied something totally and completely once; when he found out he was HIV+. He didn't except it for over a month).

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing."

_A cruel asshole of a friend_

"How _dare _you?" Lisa whispered.

"How _dare _I? How dare I? Well, get the picture here. My best friend is dying! My best friend, who I suddenly have feelings for, who I suddenly want to hug and kiss until all the hurt and pain and any trace of AIDS were completely _gone_! But the thing is; I can't. Fucking. Do that. He's my best friend, and he would _never _think about me in _that_ way. So guess what, I have the fucking right to walk out if things get too tough for me! I know I'm an asshole of a friend, and I should be thinking of him, but I _can't!_ All I can see is me alone, watching as my best friend is buried into the ground! _FUCK!"_ Roger cried, kicking the door.

It was by Roger's words did a flashback suddenly occur in Lisa's mind.

"_So, let me get this straight, so you contracted HIV from a...rape...or at least you think so, and your roommate, who happens to be HIV+ and gets angry _very _easily, got angry at you and kicked you out—"_

"_I ran away."_

"_Okay, got it. So now, you're here to find out if you're + or -, and he's doing God knows what. Am I correct?"_

"_Yeah. Though I think I know what he's doing."_

"_And what is that?"_

"_Well, it depends how he feels. If he's guilty, he's cleaning up the loft. If he's angry, he'll destroy more of the loft and then clean up. And if he's worried, he'll come looking for me."_

"_Ooh, so the question is how does he feel?"_

"_Well, I'm assuming he's worried."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because, I just ran out, and he's not as selfish as to not to try and find me. So he has to be trying to find me."_

"_Hmm, I've never seen that."_

"_What? Someone look for someone else? It's quite a common occurrence—"_

"_No! I mean I've never seen such a strong relationship."_

_A cough. A sputter. "R-relationship? W-why w-would you think t-that?"_

"_Ooh, I hit a button. I didn't mean boyfriend-boyfriend...But I see something here. Let me see...I'm assuming that you have some sort of feelings for what's-his-name?"_

"_I-it's Rog-ger. And n-no I—"_

"_Don't you dare lie to _me_ of all people. Can you honestly look into my eyes and tell me _truthfully_ that you _do not_ have feelings for this guy?"_

"_Roger. And...um...maybe—"_

"_It's a yes or no question, Mark."_

"_...Yes. Yes I do."_

"_Hmm...Man, I'd love to kick this guy's ass some."_

"_Why?"_

"_He yelled at you for something you have no control over. And what's worse is that you love the guy, and for whatever reason he doesn't even care enough to put you first when _you _might be the HIV+ one."_

"_Hmm...Never thought of it that way before."_

Lisa began to laugh hysterically, almost unable to breathe. The irony was uncanny. Mark's in love with Roger and Roger is in love with Mark, but neither knew about each other's feelings. And now Roger was running away from Mark because of something he did. _Shit, this is just fucking hilarious._

Roger just stared at her with shock and hard eyes, and he stood there for a few seconds while she laughed before turning to leave again.

"Wait Roger! Damn it Roger, stop trying to leave!" Lisa cried, trying to grab at Roger but only grabbed at air when he dodged her multicoloured nails. Lisa sighed, and crossed her arms, the laughter gone. "Look Roger, if you walk out of there right now, you're going how to deal with me in the long run. And _be_lieve me when I say that no one wants to deal with me when you're hurting someone I care about—"

"How can you even begin to feel caring towards him? You've only known him for what, a few hours?" Roger spat, looking angry now.

"I'll have you know _Roger,_ that any _sane _person can only know Mark for a few minutes before instantly loving him. You should remember, 'cause I'm sure that you fell in love with him after only knowing him for what, 5 minutes? God, probably even less. He's just _that_ lovable. The moment he came to me I felt like he was like the younger brother that I—" she stopped for a second, sounding as if she was going to cry and choke at the same time, and then gained her composure once more and spat out, "He's like the younger brother that I lost to fucking AIDS."

Suddenly Roger saw this girl Lisa in a new light. _She's not as happy as she looks. _He watched as she wiped a tear from her eyes, and then straightened up like a military officer.

"If you leave Roger, then I swear you won't see him for a long time. If you break his heart, I'm going to break your fucking face. If you crush his spirit, your pathetic ass is _mine._ I _will _have to kick your ass. Hell, I'll go back to Ji Jitsu just to learn how to kick your ass properly so every time blood pulses in your body, you _will_ feel pain, you asshole." Lisa hissed angrily, and Roger knew that she was reacting as if it was her own brother in Mark's place.

But despite her threats, Roger still had the need to run.

His body screamed at him to get out of there, to get onto the street, to run until he could barely breathe. He partially didn't want to leave, because he knew that Mark needed him, now probably needing him more then he could ever imagine. But Roger couldn't go back. He had to leave, he had to _run_.

_Run_

So Roger Davis did what his body was yelling and begging for. He ran.

_He was always  
Run away, hit the road  
Don't commit...  
You're full of SHIT!_

**Okay, I know Roger's being just plain stupid, but we all know that he kind of is (even though I'm in love with Roger, I'll admit it). I mean, he pretty much runs from his problems (i.e. he ran to Santa Fe when things got tough), and...**

**Mark having AIDS = problem **

**...and Roger kissing Mark = (to Roger) a problem**

**He was going to run eventually, am I right?**

**Anyway, ta ta for now :)**

**R&R people!**


	8. Lisa to the rescue

**Okay, guys, you're making me review addictive! Please give me at least 4 reviews this time. Please *gives puppy dog eyes* I'll give you an invisible mini voodoo doll of Mark! :) R & R!**

_**Recap:**_

_**So Roger Davis did what his body was yelling and begging for. He ran.**_

~~~~~::~~~~~

Lisa stared at the door in shock for a couple seconds before her anger popped in. She couldn't believe that Roger, the guy she had heard so many _good _things about, was turning away from his best friend when he needed him the most. _What an ass. _She thought as she glared at the door, and before she knew it she was grabbing the door handle and yanking it open. She didn't even remember crossing the room.

_How dare he leave Mark? How _dare _he?_ Were the only thoughts going through her mind. _How could _one _guy be _so. Fucking. Stupid? _How can't he see that Mark _loves _him with all of his heart? How?_ How was all that ran through her mind. She couldn't process how hurtful Roger was being. She has never in all her life seen someone so blind.

A couple of seconds later she opened to the door forcefully to see the old rocker walking away from the clinic in a quick pace, as if he was running from the devil himself. His curly, dirty blonde hair bounced as he walked, and his leather jacket slightly reflected the dirty, broken streetlights and the moonlight on the street. It was slightly snowing, and everything was blue because of the twilight descending around them. _Mark would kill to have this on film._ Lisa realized as she looked at the perfect movie scene around her.

"Hey, Davis!" Lisa screeched.

Roger turned around with a frown, and sighed when he saw it was Lisa.

"Don't expect your crush to coming home to you any time soon, you mother fucker!"

Roger eyes slightly widened, and then his face turned into a frown.

"Why is that? You going to kidnap him?" he said sarcastically.

"No, I want to though, "she said under her breath and then decided it was probably best to answer the rocker, "No! But unless he wants to return to you, you ain't seeing him for awhile." Lisa cried out with a slight glare gracing her features.

A part of her kind of hoped that he would turn back just because of what she just said. But a part of her knew he wouldn't, and she was right. A look of defiance crossed his face, and he turned on his heel and walked away, almost angrily.

"Son of a bitch." Lisa muttered before walking back into clinic.

The clinic was a silent place when she entered it. _Like a calm after the storm._ She thought as she remembered Roger and hers' heated argument from before. Now it was dead silence.

_Well that's a given, since it's after hours and Martha took in a miserable Mark in on a pity appointment. _Lisa thought, slightly grimacing and shaking her head sadly. Martha was of course Dr. Strouss, but the doctor hated people talking to her formally.

Lisa sat down in her secretary chair angrily, and crossed her arms in a huff. "What a piece of work." She muttered as she glared daggers into the wall that was peeling off paint as she thought. She officially didn't like the rocker who—

She stopped in mid thought as she heard something faint. It sounded like..._gasps...sniffle..._She frowned and looked towards the examination rooms. _Gasp...gasp...sob...sob...gasp...sob...sniffle...sob..._Lisa instantly knew who that was. She was out of her seat within seconds, and she rushed over towards the hallway where the rooms lay.

When she finally got to the room, the sobbing had gotten harder and louder, and Lisa knew that it had nothing to do with getting closer to the room. She knew by the sound of things he was having a break down (after giving the bad news to HIV+ people, the good news of a baby to pregnant women who were prostitutes or just plain whores, the bad news to poor people with cancer, etc, you get used to the signs of people having a break down). She turned the knob harshly, and opened the door wide.

There was Mark, sobbing into his hands, curled up on the examination table, looking kind of like a child.

"Oh my." Lisa whispered, uncomfortable with the fact that this was the second time this man was in her presence while sobbing like a little baby. _Roger thinks he's such a strong person...this can't be normal...then _why_ would Roger run away when Mark needed him the most?_

Another sob from Mark stopped her thoughts and brought on her mother hen instincts. Lisa was by Mark's side instantly, and took him into her arms. "Hey...hey...shh, my boy, shhh..._Hush now, my baby/ Be still now/ Don't cry/ Sleep while you're rocked/ By the stream/ Sleep and remember/ This river lullaby/ And I'll be with you/ When you dream..." _Lisa sang softly to Mark, unable to resist. She used to sing it to her little AIDS-ridden brother. _I'll never forgive my mother for giving that to him._

"_Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare...?"_ Mark sobbed back to her. He began to grab onto her, clutch at her, as if he needed her to hold him. Mark turned and sobbed into her neck, and wrapped his small child-like arms around her.

_He needs me especially now._

"M. Cohen, I—Well, hello Lisa. Why may I ask you're here?" Martha (_Dr. Strouss_ Lisa reminded herself) asked, suddenly opening the door and appearing into the room. Mark took no notice of the doctor, and continued to sob into Lisa's neck.

"Doctor—oops, _Martha_, I think I should take Mark home. I could give him the AIDS info on the way. I think he really needs to go home." Lisa whispered, rubbing comforting circles on Mark's shaking back as the doctor looked from Mark to Lisa.

"I understand." The doctor whispered sincerely, and backed out of the room. _She better understand; she deals with this crap every day._

_Well, that's taken care of. Now all I have to do is see if Mark will come home with me. I don't want him going back to the apartment or whatever that Roger's also staying in._

Mark sobs started to calm, and soon his sobs stopped and slowly became sniffles and stray tears. "There you go, hon, there you go." Lisa said, slightly smiling. _Thank God he's almost done crying._

Mark's blue, yet now red eyes finally looked up into Lisa's brown—almost maroon—eyes. He sniffled again, and wiped his eyes as he sat up straight. Lisa was never more reminded of her own little brother. Mark looked so vulnerable right then, despite the fact he was strong when he went into the appointment. _That's because _he _was with him at the time._

Lisa sighed, her mood slightly darkening at the thought of Roger **(A/N Lisa **_**really**_** doesn't like Roger huh? lol that's a first. All my OC'S just **_**love **_**Roger. Anyway, back to the story).** Lisa lifted her hand and placed it on her neck, feeling the tears there. She chuckled and wiped it all away (or at least she tried) with her long sleeve. Mark also chuckled, though it sounded forced and smiled slightly.

"Sorry about that." He whispered.

"Eh, I don't care. You deserved that cry. Something tells me you haven't cried in a long time before this."

"Not really...You said something about taking me home" Mark asked, frowning.

"I told her that to leave. If you want to go home to Roger, I'll willingly walk you home. But, if you don't want to go home, you're able to stay with me." She said with a smile.

Mark stared blankly at her, and then whispered, "Really?"

"Yeah, of course."

"You're willing to let me, a stranger for the most part, stay with you?" Mark asked a resemblance of a smile on his lips.

"Technically, you aren't a total stranger. I know your name, a part of your life story, your friend's name, and I know the fact you live in Alphabet City on Avenue B. See, I know my fair share." Lisa said smugly.

"Okay...I think I'll come with you. I need to...clear my head. Be away from Roger for a while." Mark said shakily, shaking his head slightly.

Lisa stood up silently, and held out her hand. "Let's go."

**I know it's short, but this all gets better. Promise :)**


	9. Missing?

**30 REVIEWS! YAY! Thanks for all the support everyone, and please continue to leave reviews, and hopefully you guys can help me reach grand 50! :) **

**BTW, this takes place a week after Lisa took Mark to her place and Roger took off, everyone!**

**Anyway, enjoy the chapter and R & R!**

It took Roger a week of not seeing Mark before he got sick of all of his own bullshit.

_How stupid was I? I'm such a fucking idiot. To leave him like that? When he needed me no less. Lisa was fucking right. Ugh, I hate it when someone else is right and I'm wrong. _Roger thought as he sped around the loft, looking for his jacket, an extra jacket for Mark, and some other extra stuff.

He couldn't say that he wasn't worried about his best friend. _And my crush._ Roger reluctantly added with a sigh as he opened the loft's door. The reason why he hasn't searched for Mark earlier was because he was too stubborn and wasn't too much of a fan of Lisa. But now he needed to talk to his friend (_and my crush. _he added once more), and despite the fact that he almost couldn't stand Lisa, he knew he had to talk to her.

_Too bad I don't know her last name. I could have just ignored her, found her place somehow, and gone to get my best friend all alone. _Without _her help. _Roger thought as he rushed down the stairs.

But he knew he couldn't do anything without her, so he had to do something he thought he wouldn't have to do ever since meeting Mimi; he had to charm a girl he ha- _disliked. I can't hate the woman that has befriended Mark. Damn it._

He couldn't pretend he had enjoyed the week that he had spent away from Mark. It was actually one of the most worrying weeks he had ever endured. He couldn't stop his thoughts of Mark, and he couldn't stop thinking of his and Mark's actions. If only's circled within his mind the whole time, making his worry worse and worse until he couldn't take it anymore.

_If only I supported myself in those 3 ½ months that Mark was a whore. He wouldn't have had to sleep around for money, and he wouldn't have AIDS._

_If only I hadn't made Mark run and go to the clinic all by himself. He wouldn't have cried to Lisa, and I could've showed I cared for him more._

_If only I hadn't kissed him. I wouldn't have gotten scared, and ran off. Now he's gone, doing God knows what—_

That made Roger stop moving completely.

_He could be doing God knows what...Oh God; I hope he hasn't returned to—_Roger gulped, _his addictions. Oh God, please let him not be stupid and return to his knife and booze. Please let me not have hurt him so bad _(though somehow he knew that he could've hurt his friend that badly).

That made Roger move faster.

~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~

When Roger saw the clinic, he almost turned around right there.

He could _barely _stand the place now.

That's the place that not only he but Mark also got their death sentences, there's the place he learned that Angel and then Mimi was going to die, it was there that had to take Mark every time he was beaten.

_God, I hate this place. But I'm going in for Mark. For Mark._ Roger reminded himself as he entered the dreaded clinic. When he entered, the pale blue walls mocked him, reminding him of his cowardice only a week ago. _1 week, 11 hours, and—_Roger looked up and over at the cat clock on the wall (that he just _knew_ belonged to Lisa)—_33 minutes. Way too long._ He stopped a few feet from the desk, trying to gain the courage to face Lisa again.

He looked around himself, and realized there were at least 3 other people in the room. They were all young, and two of them, both women, huddled together and cried over some bad news they got. A homeless looking man sat there staring at the wall, as if he could see through it and see what was on the other side. The beige waiting room wasn't much, with some ripped up chairs and a desk in the middle with brochure's about pretty much everything; eating disorders, pregnancy, abortion, STD's of all types (including HIV and AIDS), hepatitis A & B, depression, etc. _That table holds information on everything depressing for everyone in this room...well, unless a person is pregnant and wants to be._

"Well, well, well...isn't it Roger Davis, the Road Runner?"

_He was the same way  
He was always run away,  
Hit the road,  
Don't commit,  
You're full of SHIT!_

Roger looked over at the tall desk and there stood Lisa, her bangled arms crossed and her stance rigid. Her colourful hair was in a fuzzy purple elastic, and her outfit made her look like an abstract piece of art. _Maureen would have loved her._ Roger thought, and grimaced at his thoughts.

He hadn't talked or even dared to _think _about Maureen in 3 months. He mentioned Maureen once to Mark during his withdrawal from booze (Roger was trying to remind Mark of happier times during one of the worst episodes of his withdrawal), and Roger paid the price with a black eye and a cut from his neck to his shoulder (Mark of course was devastated when he realized he hurt his best friend, and was good for the rest of the week, until Roger tried to get Mark to eat some leftover Chinese food). Roger knew Mark was barely over Maureen before she died, and when she passed in the accident, Mark was never the same. _That's probably another reason why he became addicted to booze and cutting. It made him forget._

"Hello, Lisa." Roger grumbled, walking up to the desk.

"What do want from me, Davis?" Lisa sighed, sitting back down and leafing through a file folder. It seemed she wasn't ready for a fight, and Roger couldn't blame her. The last time they saw each other they didn't depart on such good terms.

"I want my filmmaker back. Please, just tell me where you live and I'll..." Roger trailed off at Lisa's worried expression. _Oh shit, that can't be good. _Roger thought worriedly.

"Roger," Lisa started, which unnerved Roger since she's christened him with 'Davis' instead of 'Roger', "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Mark left my place _two days ago_."

**Ooh, cliffy cliffy. lol I love doing these.**

**Sorry this is **_**so **_**short, but I promise the next chapter will be **_**long**_**. Or at least I hope it is. If not, then the next next chapter will be **_**long**_**.**


	10. Memories in Central Park

_**Recap:**_

"_**Roger," Lisa started, which unnerved Roger since she's christened him with 'Davis' instead of 'Roger', "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Mark left my place **_**two days ago**_**."**_

~~~~~::~~~~~~~

Roger's mouth went dry, and he was barely able to croak a "_What?_"

"He left my apartment like two days ago, saying he wanted to patch things up with you. I insisted that I go with him, just to walk and distract him all the way there, but he said he wanted to see you and talk to you alone. I told him to call me as soon as he got home instead, and he did...which is strange since apparently he's not with you..." Lisa whispered worriedly, looking down at her file folder but not moving. Roger noticed she was slightly chewing on her purple thumb nail as she stared into space.

"He—Where—how—who—no..." Roger whispered, barely holding himself up on Lisa's tall desk. _Oh God, what could've happened to him? What...Oh my God, he was mugged! Or maybe he was taken...kidnapped! Oh no...Shit...He could've died out in the snow...wait; it hasn't snowed in over two weeks...how about if The Man forced him to take drugs? And he's getting him addicted as I think. Oh my fucking God, Mark couldn't get through that! He couldn't go through another withdrawal, and this time such a harder one. Wait...Mark would never do that. Even if he was high on weed and as drunk as a pig, he wouldn't do that to me. To himself...Oh my God...what the _fuck_ happened to him—_

Thankfully Lisa saved him from any further thinking by distracting him. She looked at him as if he was a bomb waiting to explode any minute now. She could probably see the distraction and the worry on his face. "Look, calm yourself. He's probably fine. Maybe he's been staying with Benny...or maybe for some unknown way he found Joanne on the way to the loft and he's staying with her. Think logically. Look, use the pay phone outside to call Benny. If he doesn't have him come back in and tell me, and then you can go out searching for him. If you haven't found him by 6 p.m. then I'll join you. Now go call!" Lisa said as if she was talking to a person in the middle of a panic attack.

Roger was pretty sure that he was close enough to get one any minute now.

Roger nodded numbly and took the quarter that Lisa offered to him. Soon enough he was outside, standing in front of a payphone. He didn't remember walking over there. All that ran through his mind was _Mark's missing, Mark's missing, Mark's missing..._He barely remembered Benny's number enough to dial it.

But thankfully he got it right because after two rings Benny's voice asked, "Hello?"

"B-Benny, its Roger. I-I...um, H-Have...Ma-Mark's—"

"Roger, you okay? You're stuttering."

_No shit, Sherlock. _"N-No, I'm not okay," Roger gulped, hoping to calm down the shaking a tad before he began to speak again, "Mark's missing, Ben." That didn't stop the shaking at all. Saying it made it all the more real, and Roger hated that.

"_What?_" Benny asked.

"Mark's missing. I—We got in a fight, me and him, and he decided to stay with a girl named Lisa that's he's known for awhile. And apparently he left her place _two days ago_. And-and I don't know what to do. Have you seen him? _Please _tell me he's over with you and Alison."

Benny knew this was serious when Roger called his wife 'Alison' instead of 'Muffy'. "Sorry, man. I can't tell you I've seen him unless you want me to lie to you. I haven't seen him since the last time I dropped off food."

"_Shit."_ Was all that could be heard of the other side of the line. Roger was barely able to keep his breathing in check.

"Look, Roger, I have a meeting in like 10 minutes. But how about after the meeting I'll come over and help you look. I'll be done around 3—"

"That's in 5 fucking hours! For all we know, he could be _dead_ by then!"

"Roger, please calm down. I can't afford to miss this meeting. Look, what you can do is search until I get there, alright? Remember to search the alleys near your place, the Life, check the loft at least once to make sure you're not making a huge deal out of nothing, and check Central Park. You know how much he loves to film there. 5 hours is enough time to search all of those places. By 3 I'll meet you at the loft, and if you still haven't found him I'll help you alright?"

Roger ran his shaking hands through his hair and tried his best to calm his breathing. "O-Okay."

"Alright. I'll see you in a couple hours." _Beep. Beep. Bee—_

Roger hung up, and went back inside the clinic to tell Lisa.

~~~~::~~~~

_2:07 p.m. __**(4 hrs and 4 mins after Roger began to search)**_

Roger sighed in frustration as he looked at the park around him. He searched everywhere Benny told him to; the Life (where he even asked the manager if he'd seen Mark despite the fact he hated Mark and the gang ever since they moved into the big city), the loft, and he searched all the alleyways near the loft. All he found were knocked out junkies, prostitutes, and The Man. Roger shuddered at the thought of Mark being in the alleyways with the bad crowd only 8 months before. It's horrible to think that he did it from Mimi's death to Roger's departure.

Roger was almost at the end of his rope. Despite his search, he couldn't find Mark, not even a trace of him, and he's asked over 50 people if they've seen him. But nope, no one has seen him.

And Roger was getting insanely worried.

_Where the fuck would he go? There's not a lot of places to go if you have only 5$ on you. Unless Lisa let him borrow money...no, Mark doesn't borrow money unless he _knows_ he can pay the person back. That's just who Mark is. _Roger thought, running his trembling hand through his hair for the 500th time that day. He couldn't stop his nervous habit, no matter how hard he tried.

He looked around him one more time, and sighed disappointedly when he didn't see red, almost blond hair, or a striped scarf. All he could see was a hot dog vendor, a couple of kids on a field trip, some joggers, and some junkies shaking on the park benches.

Roger sighed again, and began to walk. He didn't care where he was going, and he didn't care that he was far away from the entrance of the park, all he knew was that he had to walk.

He walked for what seemed like forever, but really it was only 10 minutes. He passed joggers and laughing children, drug dealers and people playing music for some change.

He sighed when he passed the lamppost where he, Mimi, and Mark sat only 10 months ago as Roger played, hoping to get enough money to buy chocolate milk. Roger slightly smiled at the good memory. It was before Mimi got sick, and it was before Mark began selling his body. In the end they ended up pocketing $6,32 which they used for chocolate milk and cookies. They danced in the streets in victory that night, and they all clinked their glasses together after a memorable toast from Roger,_"To us everyone. The ones who are surviving, with 46 cents to our names, and AZT in our pockets. Also, to this yummy chocolate milk and cookies, and to the Chocolate God,"_Mimi and Mark laughed at that, _"To my best friend and my girlfriend, and finally to that little 5 year old girl who put 3 dollars in my guitar case!" "Here, here!"_ Mimi and Mark cried out when the speech was done.

It was the first time in a long time where they were all truly happy. _Maybe Mark still has the footage of that day somewhere. I hope he does._ Roger walked past the lamppost quickly, trying to leave the past behind. _Focusing on finding Mark idiot._

Roger walked for another 10 minutes, not even caring what things he passed anymore. He just walked, and focused on nothing else except for trying to see a red haired head, or a man with a camera and a striped scarf.

_I looked over here already, why am I doing so again? _Roger thought frustratedly, looking around himself. He could tell he was deep in Central Park, and by the looks of things his little filmmaker wasn't in here. But he kept on going, but this time faster, and bumping into people on the way.

Finally, after walking for a grand total of 26 minutes, he finally came to a large fountain, and with one look at it he laughed.

This was the fountain where the whole group had one last group outing. Before Angel caught the flu and died, before Maureen got into a car crash, before Mimi caught pneumonia and died in Roger's arms, before the school shooting that killed Collins off and before Jo disappeared.

_It was a sunny summer day, and life was pretty good. Thoughts of dying, AZT, Benny, and rent had been pushed to the back of all their minds. The girls were wearing bikini tops and short shorts (excluding Angel), and the men wore no t-shirts (except for Mark; he _had _to wear a t-shirt) and shorts because of the pure heat. Plus, they all needed tans for their pale skin._

_They all went for a walk in the park when they came to this fountain. When they did Mimi instantly came up with the bright idea of jumping in there and swimming like they do in the _F.R.I.E.N.D.S._ intro. Roger, Mark, and Jo refused to do it, despite the hot July weather, but Angel, Collins, and Mo were instantly on board with the idea. Before the other three knew it, the four people were in the fountain, laughing and splashing and joking and seeking revenge on one another._

_Roger was the first to give up and join them. The moment he entered the fountain with his only pair of shoes off, the other four attacked him with splashes, and Roger was soaked to the bone within a matter of second. He of course went to get revenge._

_The next to fold was Jo. Maureen begged and pleaded for Jo to go in, even went on her knees. And before they knew it, the lawyer was in the fountain with them, and within the matter of minutes she was soaked too. _

_By now everyone was soaked and laughing, and onlookers were shocked and laughing as well. They were having a blast. It took Roger a while to figure out that there were only six people in the fountain. One scrawny filmmaker was missing._

_Of course he was sitting on the sidelines, laughing his ass off and filming the whole thing. Roger had had enough of the whole filming bullshit. So he let go of Mimi (who he was using as a shield to hide from Collins), and jumped out of the fountain. Collins, Mimi, and Jo looked at him in confusion, and he just nodded towards the filmmaker. They nodded in understanding and began to splash each other all over again._

_Roger then rushed over to Mark and demanded he get into the fountain. "No." Was Mark's only response as he taped the other five. "I didn't want to do this." Roger sighed and grabbed the camera. Mark being the scrawny one couldn't fight Roger for his camera, so he just sat in horror as Roger put the camera on a high branch, but it still faced the fountain._

"_C'mon, bud, let's get you in the water." Roger said, and before Mark knew it he was being picked up, put over Roger's shoulder, and a few seconds later he was thrown into the fountain. Everyone was instantly on him, and they splashed him until there was not one dry thing on his body._

"_WAIT!" Mark suddenly cried holding his hands up. Everyone stopped, wondering if the filmmaker was angry._

_Needless to say, he wasn't. Before everyone knew it, they were all being splashed by Mark, and Mimi and Collins instantly vowed revenge._

It took them 2 hours before they even thought of leaving the fountain. By then they even had teams and they were playing a splashing war (Roger, Mark, and Mimi who were the chocolate chip Musketeers vs. Collins, Angel, and Mo who were the apple pie Anarchists. Joanne refused to join and just sat referring). It was only when Mark cried out "POLICE!" and a police officer was at least 20 meters away from the fountain did they stop splashing.

Mimi yelled out "HALL ASS!" and everyone instantly jumped out of the fountain and began to run. Almost everyone almost forgot their stuff in their haste. Mark even almost forgot his camera.

In the end, with stuff in hand, they ran a grand total of 30 blocks and at least a mile of park, all the while laughing and screeching. They were all bare feet (except for Mark), and soaked, so they got a couple of stares on the way. The police officer lost them after they ditched the park, but they all ran anyway, laughing and smiling at the camera, which still filmed as they ran.

_We'll have to find that tape too._ Roger thought as he got nearer to the fountain.

But as Roger neared the fountain, Roger noticed someone sitting on the ledge of it. The person had red hair, a striped scarf and a camera clutched to his chest.

Roger could only think one thing;

_Mark_

**Ha ha! Told yah this chapter would be longer. I also just **_**had **_**to add a couple of memories into this story, like I did with '**_**Finale'**_** . If you want me to add to the memory, please leave me a review telling so and I'll probably write a companion piece about it, like I'll probably do **_**one day **_**with the park scene from '**_**Finale'**_**. Well, I probably will anyway but people letting me know they'd read it would be nice :)**

**Anyway R & R people!**


	11. Finding Mark again

**Ooh, peoplz! Last chapter was intense, am I right? Now, you finally have a less intense chapter, but not easy going either.**

**Enjoy, and I hate to remind you but R&R!**

_**Recap: **_

_**But as Roger neared the fountain, Roger noticed someone sitting on the ledge of it. The person had red hair, a striped scarf and a camera clutched to his chest.**_

_**Roger could only think one thing;**_

**Mark**

~~~~::~~~~~

"Mark?"

The scrawny filmmaker instantly stiffened. _Oh shit...no way...that _can't_ be..._Mark thought turning and looking over his shoulder. Mark internally groaned at the sight of his best friend/roommate/crush. _Fuck...Lisa must've contacted him somehow. _Mark thought, turning to face the freezing fountain again.

He had his back to the songwriter, and his legs were crossed so his legs wouldn't hit the slimy yet snowy inside of the empty fountain. He didn't want to get in trouble with the cops for something like that. _That's the last thing I need. A cop arresting me for something so small as putting my feet in a fountain._

Mark took in his friend's appearance. He was slightly pale, and pretty close to being too skinny. His eyes showed his relief, and he had a slight smile on his face. Mark knew that Roger must've been worried, because Mark could see the remnants of worry in his face and eyes. _God, he looks absolutely tired. I hope he's been taking his AZT. _Mark thought worriedly as the rocker began to walk forward.

Mark fought the urge to meet Roger halfway and fuss over him like a mother hen. _This man hurt me, almost beyond repair. I shouldn't feel this way..._But Mark couldn't help it. After years and years of taking care of his friend; through withdrawal, through the 2 years after it, and every drunken night Roger's ever had, he couldn't stop the mothering instinct now.

Mark clenched his fists, and turned away. _Be angry, Mark. He ditched you when you needed him the most. He doesn't deserve your forgiveness. _But again Mark couldn't help the forgiving feeling in his body. He's lived his life with the saying '_Forgive and forget'_. The only people he held a grudge against was Maureen (for cheating and dumping him...but this grudge didn't last long), the man that...took advantage of him, and his Father (that grudge will last until the day he dies).

"Mark?" Roger asked again, but this time with worry laced in his voice.

"Go away Rog." Mark whispered, staring into the fountain that had coins everywhere, despite the snow. Mark slightly smiled when he remembered that day in the fountain with all of his friends. They all had such a blast that day.

When they finally got to the loft that day (after running away from the cops for 30 blocks and a mile of park), they sat down in the living room laughing and panting for a long time. They hung out for at least an hour before Roger gave a mischievous smile.

"_Roger, what'd you do?" Collins asked, knowing full and well that Roger must be up to something._

"_Nothing." Roger smirked._

"_Oh, c'mon, we know you're up to _something_. What're you hiding?" Mark asked, poking Roger._

"_Okay, fine then, if you must know," it was then Roger opened up the folded leather jacket that was on beside him on the couch. He opened it to reveal...coins? It took a couple of minutes for everyone to process what it was. "Oh my God! Those are coins from the fountain!" Mimi cried, picking up coins from the pile. _

_Roger just grinned at them all, and asked, "Who wants to go out for dinner?"_

That night they all dined as kings (and queens of course). In all they had at least 50 bucks.

Of course now there were at least hundreds of coins (since it's been years since that day), and Mark couldn't help but gaze at them all with slight sadness. He would never do that again. Play in a fountain and collect coins and run away from the cops.

He never missed his group of friends more.

"No, I'm going away Mark. I just...I just want to talk okay?" Roger asked carefully.

"Whatever." Mark hissed, bringing his legs closer to himself.

Roger sat down beside Mark carefully, making sure he wasn't too close to Mark. Roger took off his leather jacket, and draped it casually over Mark, and sat there beside him, staring into the fountain along with him. _This'd make a great picture._ Mark thought, and shook his head. _Don't think stuff like that. Anger...anger..._

Finally, after 10 minutes of silence, Roger whispered, "You scared me half to death."

A scoff, "Really? _I_ scared _you_?"

A sigh, "I guess I deserve that."

Another 5 minutes of silence, until Roger whispered, "Everyone's worried about you. Benny, Lisa...me. You gave us quite a scare."

Mark just sighed, and placed his hand on the back of his neck. His nervous habit.

"I've missed you Mark...Look, Mark. I'm so sorry," Mark scoffed angrily, and tensed instantly when Roger put his hand on his shoulder, "I mean it Mark. Dammit Mark, I mean it. You have no idea." Roger laughed, though it was forced and slightly crazed.

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why'd you do it? Why'd you run away when I needed you the most?" Mark asked, tears brimming in his eyes.

Roger sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked over at Mark, and sighed again. _Look at him...he's so pale...oh God, I hope he hasn't been living here for the past 2 nights. He looks like he hasn't eaten in awhile...He's way too freaking small...the moment we get home I'm stuffing food down his small throat. If he'll go home with me...Don't think that way. Focus on Mark._

"I-I honestly don't know. I got...I don't know..._scared _I guess..." _Because I love you, and you don't love me. I don't deserve you, and I'll probably never get you, and that kills me Mark._

"_Scared?_" Mark growled, looking at Roger. _Good, show him your anger. Like Lisa said, let your emotions out._ Roger gulped, knowing he was in for it now. Mark rarely ever got mad, but when he did, you'd better watch yourself.

"_Scared? _What. The. Fuck. Roger? _You _were scared? How about me? How did I feel at the time? Didn't I feel angry, sad, _betrayed?_ Especially over the fact that I didn't get a choice to get it or not?" Mark realized too late the mistake he made. _Oh fuck, he thinks I got it from a customer...He doesn't know I was raped. Shit._

But Roger just scoffed. "Yes, you did have a choice. You could've just let me go without medicine for awhile, or let us go without food for a week. We've done it before, haven't we? But you had to go and make yourself a _whore—_"It was there that Roger stopped talking, so he wouldn't say something he'd regret.

Mark meant to go with the flow, and say he did get it from a customer...but having Roger yelling at him for something he had no control over made him snap. "I. Didn't. Get. A. Fucking. _Choice._ I was fucking _raped _okay? No, it wasn't a customer; it was some guy who refused to pay my fee and decided he needed to fuck then and there in an _alley _okay? _Fuck!" _Mark cried, his voice rising with every word before finally putting his head in his hands as he trembled.

Everything was silent for a second, as Roger processed Mark's words. _Raped? _Raped_? No...Not Mark. Cutting? Prostitution? Alcohol? AIDS? And now _rape?_ No...This can't happen to _Mark. _Sweet, scrawny, little Mark, who wouldn't hurt a fly. Me? Maybe. Mimi? Possibly, she probably used to have more of a chance for those things than me. But Mark? My best friend, my roommate, my _love_? No..._

_But it's happening._

_I can't stop it...I _hate _that...fuck...FUCK!_

Mark and Roger stayed silent for a couple minutes until Roger whispered softly, "I-I'm s-sorry."

"Don't be. Forget it. It wasn't your fault...there was nothing you could do to stop it from happening." Mark sighed, folding over until his forehead hit his shoe. _Maybe I am a little bit skinny._

"I could've though Mark. I could've gone with you...I could've noticed what was happening earlier...I could've—"

"Stop. Mimi would've wanted you to 'Forget regret', remember? You were mourning...I don't blame you Roger." Mark sighed, and looked up to his friends eyes. By the baggies under Roger's eyes, Mark could tell he hasn't slept in awhile.

Roger just sighed again, and stared into the fountain. _I'm never going to stop blaming myself Mark. I will never leave your side until the day I...or you die. I will never let anything bad happen to you as long as I live Mark. No more rape, no knives, no alcohol, no anything, Mark. I'll protect you. _Roger thought, getting slightly teary eyed. Mark sighed, and they both stared into the fountain.

"Everything's changed, hasn't it?" Mark whispered, staring into the water fountain. All thoughts of his old friends, of all the happy memories they had together, of the year they all had together, was pushed back in his mind. _I can't bring back the past, so I shouldn't be dwell and wish for it again. _Mark thought sadly.

"Yeah...that kind of sucks." Roger whispered, voicing the thoughts of both men.

"It does. Remember when life was normal? You were just done withdrawal, and we met everyone?" Mark asked, sadly once more. He felt tears in his eyes, but he blinked them away angrily. _God, I've been acting like such a girl._

"Yeah. Remember the good old days where we danced on table with nothing to care about except money, eviction, and food? Awesome days, right?" Roger smiled, and before he could stop himself, he began to laugh. Mark joined him, and before they knew it the Bohemian boys were laughing their asses off. People looked strangely at them as they passed by, but they didn't care. All they cared about was the laughter shared between them.

Mark knew there would always be a part of him that wished for the past, but he also knew he had a future with Roger. Hey, even maybe one day he'd be able to tell the rocker how he felt. But for now, he was just willing to laugh all his worried away, and be content with his best friend.

Neither men knew that their lives would change _yet again _that very night.


	12. Angels and Realization

**Yay! The big 40 has been reached! :D 6 more to go until I reach 50 reviews! I have a deal for everyone; if I get to 50 reviews before this story ends, I will treat all my reviewers with 2 chapters on the same day! You know you want that, so please review!**

**Before we continue with the story, I just wanted to thank two of my faithful reviewers, **_**crzyRENThead **_**and **_**The Fallen Angel of Music**_**. You two never hesitate to leave me a review, and for that I'm thankful you guys! Hell, I'm thankful to EVERYONE whose left me a review! :) Okay, on with the story!**

It took Roger awhile to convince Mark to come back home with him.

"_Please, Mark, please come back. For me. You could get sick out here." He begged._

"_Rog, I don't think I'm ready—"_

"_Then please go back to Lisa's. I don't want you getting sick and starving out h—"_

"_I've overstayed my welcome there."_

"_No you haven't; have you even asked her?"_

"_Well...no." he said hesitantly._

"_Exactly. Please, go back to Lisa's if you have to, just please stay safe and warm and fed _somewhere..._though, I would prefer it if you came home with me."_

"_But I've been fine out h—"_

"_No you haven't! I bet my ass on it. When's the last time you've eaten?"_

"_...well—"_

"_How about warmth? Are you warm at night?" he interrupted_

"_No, but it's not like I'd be any warmer at—"_

"_How about sleep?" he interrupted again_

"_Well, no—"_

"_Finally, have you been safe out here...at night...all by yourself?"_

"_No, but I'm not safe anywhere—"_

"_You're safe when you're with me. That I can promise."_

"_Oh yeah? How about _that _night. While you were mourning, I was being..." he didn't finish, but he said enough._

Ouch. _"Fine. I get your point. But that's because I wasn't with you. If I was, I would've killed the guy and you know it," his voice became pleading, "Please, come with me _somewhere. _Anywhere but on the streets." _

"_Well..."_

"_I would've listened to you if I did this during withdrawal, and you know it." Roger said._

_A sigh. "Fine, let's go home."_

Roger could see the hesitation in his eyes when Mark finally relented, and he noticed the slight reluctance as he stepped away from the fountain. Roger knew it had to be more then the fact that he was afraid of being hurt again. He was almost certain that not only was he afraid of heartbreak, but he was also afraid of leaving the past behind.

Roger couldn't really blame him. Central Park, Alphabet City, hell, _New York _held so many memories of him and the group. And Mark was afraid to give it up. Mark was truly happy during those times. If everyone else was happy, Mark was too.

And now all of his happiness depended on Roger..._Whoa, scary thought. _Roger thought as they walked silently away from Central Park.

Mark was more quiet than usual, with his cold hands in his pockets, and a frown on his face indicating that he was thinking deeply. _I'd love to be in his head, just for an hour. To see how he thinks now...does he sometimes think about suicide? Is he thinking about his diagnosis? God, I hope he's not thinking of booze or cutting. Mental Note: remove anything sharp from the loft for a couple of days. _

Roger sighed, and looked around him. They were definitely in Alphabet city.

It just changed dramatically; from smiling strangers and girl joggers listening to their iPod's to homeless men and junkies shooting up in dark alleys. _This is home._ Roger thought, looking up at the now cloudy sky.

"I've missed you too." Mark suddenly whispered.

"What?" Roger asked, brought out of his thoughts.

"I just remembered that you told me you missed me at the park, and I'm answering you. I missed you as well." Mark said, with a tint of pink in his cheeks. _He's blushing. _Roger realized with a big smile.

"Well, thanks. You know I really did miss you." Roger said, hoping to make him blush more. Roger held back a laugh when he pink turned into red. Roger was instantly happy for the first time in a week. When Mark's signature blush starts to happen again, you know Mark is going back to normal. _Finally, after all this time...I'm surprised that it's happening so fast though. It's only been a week since his diagnosis—_

_BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEE-!_

Roger stopped his beeper from going off, and slipped his hand into the back pocket of his jeans. He took out his bottle of AZT, and slipped the pills into his hand. He dry swallowed them quickly, and then slipped his medication back into his back pocket.

It took Roger several moments to realize that Mark was looking away guiltily. It took another several moments to realize that Mark didn't take his AZT.

"Mark?" Roger questioned quizzically.

"Yeah?" Mark asked back, still looking away.

"Where's your AZT?"

"In my jacket." Mark answered, shaking his left jacket pocket. A rattling noise came from the shaking. It was from that Roger became even more confused.

"Why aren't you taking it?"

"W-well...u-ugh...um..." was all Mark could muster.

"Mark...you have started your AZT, right?"

"Um..."was the only answer Mark gave.

"_Right?" _Roger asked, becoming increasingly worried. _So that's why he looks so...not sick. _Happy. _Because he hasn't started his AZT, so he hasn't felt the effects of starting it yet._

"Well...not exactly. I've been planning to, but—"

"You haven't?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Okay, scrawny boy. The moment we enter the loft, you're starting it. I don't care how much you don't want to. You have no choice in the matter. AZT will soon be the only thing that keeps you alive, so you _have _to take it."

"Fine." Mark sighed, though it sounded like he hated the thought.

"Come on now, Mark. When I began to take AZT, I sucked it up for you."

"No you didn't!" Mark cried, though it looked like he was ready to laugh, even though he was trying to be serious.

"Okay...I gave a _little _bit of a hard time. But I still did it. And who did I do it for?" Roger asked, slinging his arm over Mark's shoulder.

"Me." Mark whispered after a few seconds of hesitation.

"Who?" Roger asked, pretending not to hear.

"Me!" Mark cried with a sigh.

"Exactly. Here we are. Home sweet Alphabet City." Roger sighed, practically skipping away to go unlock the building's door when it finally came into view.

As Roger did so, he tried to ignore his now speeding heart, and his stomach which was doing flip-flops. He ignored the nagging feeling that wanted him to go back to Mark, to get _closer_, to smell Mark's hair, to entwine his free hand in Mark's, to kiss Mark's trembling lips...It was kind of unspoken agreement to not kiss, since Roger screwed up their first kiss in the clinic. It was also an unspoken agreement to not talk about that kiss. He ignored it all; no matter how much he wanted to do so many things to the filmmaker that he loved—

_Wait...love? _Roger thought in shock.

And then it hit him like a freight train as he stood on the front steps of the building that both men loved, in the middle of Alphabet City, in the middle of a snowy New York.

It was snowing slightly, though it wasn't before as they walked away from Central Park. There was a homeless cat crossing the street, and it screeched as it just dodged a speeding car. It was overly cloudy, and there were at least 2 homeless people near them. In the alleyway across the street The Man was selling drugs to a 16 yr old girl, who was trembling because of pre-withdrawal. And somewhere in the next building a Spanish woman was yelling angrily at her children.

But Roger Davis was completely oblivious to that.

Because all he focused on was his friend Mark...his filmmaker, his buddy, his partner in crime, his ex-crush...his _love._ His Mark whose nose was slightly red from the cold, who was filming and slightly narrating under his breath, and who was still wearing Roger's coat. But being cold was the last thing on Roger's mind.

All he could think was; _I've _always_ loved him...I _love _him..._

_I love my best friend, Mark Cohen._

When Roger finally realized this fact, 4 angels smiled down at the two men.

**SQUEE! ROGER LOVES MARK, ROGER LOVES MARK, ROGER LOVES MARK!...okay, done with that hyperness! I'm just so excited!**

**Anyway, pce out and PLEASE R&R**


	13. One more cut

**Okay, you did what I asked for...THE GRAND 50! :D I'm very happy now. So in return you guys get the two chapters you wanted! Here's the first chapter:**

_**Recap:**_

_**All he could think was;**_** I've **_**always**_** loved him...I love him...**

**I love my best friend, Mark Cohen.**

_**When Roger finally realized this fact, 4 angels smiled down at the two men.**_

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**_

"Roger?"

Roger blinked a couple of times before focusing completely on Mark. He was still in shock from his realization. _I love him. I love him, I love him, I love him...Ilovehim Ilovehim IlovehimIlovehim—_

"Rog, you okay?"

Roger shook his head and gave a reassuring smile to Mark. Though he wasn't alright at all. "I-I'm fine. Relax dude. Just let me get the door." Roger smiled, and he turned quickly to face the door. The moment he did, he let out a huge sigh, and went to unlock the door.

It took him 10 minutes to do that because his hands were shaking so much.

Once they were finally inside, Roger quickly walked up the stairs in front of Mark, hoping not to come in contact with him again. _If I did I don't think I'd be able to keep myself away from him. _Roger thought, shaking his head. He only slowed down when he was at least 7 steps ahead of Mark. _God, I need to get away...I need to _think_! I need to—NO! I will stay. Mark needs me right now and I can't leave. Even if I have to nail my feet to the floorboards of the loft, _Roger gulped, _not that I'd like that though._

Mark all the while looked at Roger quizzically. Mark noticed his sudden change, from laughing and sorry to quiet within a couple minutes. Mark knew that wasn't good, because that meant Roger must've thought something that was seriously deep, and he was pondering over it. _I wonder what he's thinking. You can never know when he's in this type of mood...I bet he regrets taking me in. He regrets saving me from the park, and he wishes he forced me to go to Lisa's...no, new thoughts, Cohen, new thoughts. Roger'd never do that. At least I hope..._

Mark stared at Roger as they both walked up the stairs. _He kissed me, and he hasn't said a thing to me about it. Sure, it was a week ago, but it couldn't have been _that _forgettable. _Mark thought suddenly, sighing, all the while pushing away all the loneliness in his heart and the sad thoughts clouding his mind.

When Roger finally got up to the loft's door, Mark was behind him, so Roger quickened so he could get into the loft. When he opened the door though, he was in for a surprise.

"Benny? What're you doing here?" Roger asked, his mind totally going blank for a second.

Benny stood in the middle of the loft, pacing as it seemed until they got into the loft. Benny sighed in relief when he saw Mark, and moved towards them. "Don't you remember Rog? I came to help find Mark half an hour ago, but thankfully my help isn't needed." Benny said, flashing a sincere smile in Mark's direction. Mark smiled back, and past Roger to get into the loft.

"Oh right...God, I feel stupid...wait, half an hour?" Roger asked, laughing (though it was forced).

"Yeah...it's 3:37 Rog." Benny said, looking at his Rolex Platinum watch. Another symbol to show the Boho boys that Benny wasn't a part of their group anymore.

"Oh...sorry, Ben. Well, do you wanna beer while you're here **(A/N hey that rhymes! lol)**...," Roger asked, but both men stared at him, "What?"

"Did _Roger Davis, the rock God, _apologize? Oh my God, this is a Kodak moment." Benny said dramatically with a hand on his chest, while Mark laughed behind his hand.

Roger just rolled his eyes and answered with a, "Shut up Ben," in a joking way of course.

Mark look between the two with a smile. He couldn't believe it. _They _were getting along. Benny and Roger. Like old times when Benny, Collins, Mark, and Roger used to hang out, laugh, and smoke all day, or when Benny played cards with Roger when the two were bored. The sight was strange after years of hate between the two, but in a _good _way. Mark missed this. The friendly insults, the mischievous smiles, the "manly" hugs, the dirty jokes...Mark missed it all. It was almost as if—

Mark tried to stop himself, but he didn't in time. _It's almost as if nothing in the past happened._

But Mark knew what happened in the past _did happen_.

Roger met April and became a drug addict. April killed herself, and left Roger with HIV. Benny and Collins did leave. Maureen came and cheated, and left too. Roger did have to suffer withdrawal in Mark's arms. Mark did become a cutter. Benny did become yuppie scum. Maureen met Joanne. Roger met Mimi. Collins met Angel. Mark was alone, as usual. Angel did die. Roger left for Santa Fe. Roger did come back. Mimi almost died. Maureen died a couple of months later. Mimi did follow. Mark became a whore. Mark did get raped. Collins did die in a shooting, not from AIDS. Roger did leave again. Mark became an alcoholic. Mark almost committed suicide. Roger came back. Mark went through withdrawal. Mark did contract HIV. Roger did leave. Roger came back. Roger left again. And came back again. To stay? Mark wasn't sure. Suddenly, all that loneliness, self-hatred, and regret consumed Mark, and he felt himself shake.

Mark knew what his body craving for.

_But I can't do it...I can't..._told himself, like a mantra. Over and over again he told himself he didn't need it, he didn't _want _it. As both men laughed and joked with each other, they didn't notice Mark clenching his fists until his hands were white, or shake so badly that he was almost convulsing. They didn't notice Mark fighting to keep his self-control.

But it was too much for Mark to take. Mark's past burdened him, and he found himself turning away and walking towards his room. Mark barely heard his name being called. He didn't turn around, and in a few short seconds he was in his room. Roger and Benny repeatedly knocked on his door, but he refused to answer them as he leaned his body against the door. After an hour of knocking, pleading, bribing and ordering (in that order), they both gave up on Mark coming out, which meant they wouldn't bother him for awhile. Mark put a wooden chair under the door with smile, knowing what awaited him now.

A part of him was screaming at him to not do it, that he worked so hard to stop it and he couldn't just put that all to waste. But Mark didn't listen. The 4 angels in heaven were screaming at the top of their lungs to him, yelling at him to stop, but he didn't. He instead went over to a creaky floorboard. He lifted it, and was met with a few things...one of them was a knife.

_Don't do it!_

_Don't do it Marky!_

It was all unheard.

_One cut won't hurt..._

_Everyone left you..._

_No one loves you..._

_He doesn't want you around..._

_He wants you at Lisa's, gone..._

_That's why he left..._

_Roger doesn't want you..._

_Roger wishes he never kissed you..._

_He doesn't love you..._

_He'll _never _love you..._

Mark's inner demons whispered sweet nothings in his ear, and sadly Mark listened. Mark gasped slightly in delight as the knife dragged across his skin. Blood bubbled instantly, as if it was waiting for Mark to leak it out.

_Maybe one more cut..._

_No one loves you Mark..._

_Not you're Father, not your Mother, and especially not your friends..._

Another line followed the first one

_One more..._

_No one..._

_They want you gone..._

Soon enough, his arm was filled with cuts, accompanying the healed cuts already there. Some were short and deep, others were long and shallow. Mark admired them and was in his own little world where no pain could harm him when a voice brought him back.

"I'm worried about him, Ben." It was Roger, with a worried tone in his voice. It was behind the door, and by the sound of it not too far away. Mark stopped what he was doing instantly and listened intently.

"Relax Roger. Leave him alone for a little longer. We'll give him another half an hour to come out, and if he doesn't, we'll kick the door down."

"But Ben, it's been 3 hours!"

"It doesn't matter. How about we go outside and have a smoke while we wait—"

The conversation sent Mark into action.

~~~~~~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mark?" Roger asked, knocking on the door.

"We're coming in." Benny said, and threw his shoulder against the door. The door opened easily, and banged into the wall behind him.

Mark "awoke" from his "nap", and looked "groggily" at the two men. "What are you two doing?" he asked, sitting up.

"Oh...uh...we were...worried...so you were napping the entire time?" Roger asked, looking confused.

"Yes." Mark lied, faking a yawn.

"Oh...sorry to barge in." Roger whispered as Ben patted him on the back and left the room.

"It's okay...wow, two apologies in one day? Shocker." Mark whispered with a fake smile.

"Shut up Mark...you want to go back to napping?" Roger asked, looking around the room a little suspiciously. Mark gulped inaudibly, and thought, _He knows something's up...Oh God...Don't notice anything..._Please_...Relax, Mark. You're a class 'A' liar. Just make him believe it._

"Yeah, please." Mark whispered, yawning again.

"Okay, I'll leave you to it." Roger said, but he didn't close the door on his way out. But he did turn out all but one light in the living room, knowing that Mark loved complete darkness when he slept.

Mark sighed into his pillow as he lay down.

If Roger looked a bit closer, he would've noticed the drop of blood or two on the ground, or the rags in the corner that were a deep red, or notice the slight bulge in Mark's forearms from the makeshift bandages.

But thankfully for Mark he didn't. Mark sighed again, and this time he actually tried to sleep.

**Don't hate me! I just had to! A little twist I guess! BTW, the second chapter a promised you will be out by the end of the day, I promised.**

**Anyway, R&R!**


	14. I should tell you

**Here you go, the promised second chapter!**

**BTW, "**_**Italics in quotes are sung words just to let you know! See, I'm singing right now! Wooould you light my candle? Or take me ooooooooooooout tonight! Meow, HA!"**_

_**And when it's JUST italics, they're THOUGHTS. See, I'm thinking of taking over the world right now**_

**That's all you people need to know right now. Enjoy the story! :)**

Roger sighed as he sat out in the loft's living room. It was 2:30 in the morning, and he couldn't sleep. Like if Roger fell asleep, Mark wouldn't be there, and he hated that thought.

Benny had left at 11 p.m., making up the excuse that Alison didn't like it when he was out late. But Roger really knew that he had other work to do, and he was wasting his time by hanging out with Roger, hoping Mark would come out of his room.

Shortly after Mark went down for his nap, he called Lisa, and explained that he found Mark and everything was okay. She seemed so thankful, and Roger found himself wondering if she really did care about Mark. When she asked to see him, Roger told her that he probably needed his rest, so she could come and visit in the morning. She reluctantly agreed, and left Roger to go talk to Ben.

Roger looked at the clock and sighed. _2:33 _it read. _It's been 12 hours...how much sleep does he need? _Roger thought, absentmindedly playing Musetta's Waltz. _Let's just make this part go faster...I should tell you...I should tell you...I should tell..._Roger shook his head, trying to get his and Mimi's song out of his head.

But he soon realized that was exactly how he felt. The reason why he wanted Mark to get up, the reason why he was so nervous, was because he wanted to tell Mark something...through a song.

When Mark was gone that week, he didn't just laze around the loft (though he did that a lot of the time). On the way back from the clinic a week ago, a beat formed in his mind, and following that was lyrics. This was Mark's song, like 'Your Eyes' was Mimi's song.

'The Reason' was Mark's song.

He began to play the notes ever so softly, and sung it softly under his breath. Occasionally he looked up at the clock, and every time he did he cussed under his breath and continued playing his song.

_I should tell you  
I should tell you  
I should tell you_

_I should tell that I'm sorry  
That I left you  
I should tell that I know I don't deserve you  
But I'm glad you stay anyway  
I should tell you that I wrote you a song  
While you were gone..._

Absentmindedly he began to play 'I should tell you' on his guitar, like he used to when he and Mimi were together and right after she died. "_I should tell you... I should tell you..." _Roger sang over and over again.

"What should you tell me?"

Roger gasped at the sudden voice, and sighed in relief when he realized it was just Mark. When he did finally notice it was Mark, he groaned. Mark was just as handsome as ever, with a his red—_almost blond, _Roger realized—hair was sticking up in all directions, and he looked incredibly groggy. There was a child-like air about him, something Roger noticed before but never really acknowledged. All of that combined made him look insanely cute.

_Goddamn Mark...you really have to make this hard for me, don't you?_

"It's nothing Mark...why are you up?" Roger asked, going back to playing Musetta's Waltz. "Well, I've been sleeping for a long time, so I figured I would...hang out I guess." Mark shrugged, walking over to the kitchen.

"Are you still tired?" Roger asked, following Mark to the kitchen.

Mark was already there, making some tea, something Mark required for whatever reason before he went to bed or after he wakes up. Roger also noticed this before, but he never really acknowledged it unless to make fun of him. _God, what else did I miss?_

_Let's Just Make This Part Go Faster  
I Have Yet To Be In It  
I Should Tell You _

Roger shook the lyrics out of his head, and stood beside Mark to help put the kettle on the hot plate. But Roger made sure not to touch him.

When the water was boiling on the hot plate, Mark jumped onto the counter, while Roger went to jump on the metal table. Awkward silence followed, which sort of scared the two men since they have never had an awkward silence together in the whole 20 (or 21, depends on who you asked) years they've known each other.

"So...you must've had a good dream or something, because you've been asleep for at least 12 hours." Roger said, smiling.

"Oh...I have? Well...oops." Mark said, rubbing his neck. Roger frowned at his sign of nervousness. _What is Mark so nervous about? Have I done anything to make him that way?_

Roger nervously looked at Mark, and ran his fingers through his hair. _How will I tell him? How will I sing his song to him, and then confess my feelings. It seems...impossible._ Roger thought, staring at Mark. It didn't take long for Mark to notice this of course.

_Who Knows Where  
Who Goes There  
Who Knows  
Here Goes!_

"What Rog? Something wrong?" Mark asked, going into listening mode.

"No...I mean, yes...I mean, no, nothing's _wrong..._but there is something up." Roger said, stumbling over his words. _God, I haven't ever stumbled over my words for _anyone_. Not even Mimi..._

_Trusting Desire, Starting To Learn  
Walking Through Fire without a Burn _

"What is it?" Mark asked, moving over to the metal table and sitting beside his best friend. Mark didn't notice that when he did, Roger softly began to tremble with the effort not to touch him, or notice that Roger's breathing quickly became ragged.

_Clinging a Shoulder, a Leap Begins  
Stinging and Older, Asleep On Pins_

"It's just..." he didn't know what to say. _Roger Davis; _the charmer, the sex and rock n' roll God, the guy that could win any girl over without even trying, was suddenly speechless. He couldn't find one word to say...except for four.

"_I should tell you."_ Roger sang softly

"_I should tell you." _Mark whispered back, which made Roger slightly surprised.

"_I should tell you I left because  
I just couldn't deal." _Roger confessed, though it hurt him slightly. He didn't want to admit himself as a coward, but he had to. He had to come clean.

"_I should tell you that that kiss  
Actually made me feel." _Mark whispered a small smile on his face. Roger smiled back, and hesitantly grabbed Mark's hand. Mark sighed, though it sounded slightly choked. _Stop grabbing my hand, Roger. You're just hurting me more...You kiss me, and refuse to talk about it...so don't hold my hand...doesn't let be hope that you love me back..._

"_I should tell that when I was gone  
I missed you every Goddamn day." _Mark whispered, gripping Roger's hand. It was then Roger got a glimpse of the pain that he put Mark through. It felt like a slap in the face, or a punch in the stomach. Though Roger knew that he should get more than a slap or a punch for hurting Mark the way he did. He hurt Mark way too much, and for that he knew he was going to Hell, since Mark was definitely an angel. Despite all of the things he's done. And Roger knew instantly that he'd have to do a lot to make Mark forgive and trust him again.

"_I should tell that I know I don't deserve you  
But I'm glad you stay anyway." _Roger said, smiling slightly at Mark and squeezing his hand ever so slightly. Mark smiled back, though it looked like it was forced. _It's I who doesn't deserve you Rog._

"_I should tell you..." _Mark whispered, getting used to the feel of Roger's hand in his.

"_I should tell you..." _Roger whispered, readying himself to confess his love.

"_I should tell you that I wish  
Everyone wasn't gone." _Mark whispered, tears coming to his eyes. Roger knew it must've taken a lot to admit that, so Roger squeezed his hand tight and gave him an encouraging smile. Mark smiled and squeezed right back.

"_I should tell you while you were gone  
I wrote you a song._" Roger whispered, and opened his mouth the say his other confession, but Mark stopped him.

"Really? Sing it to me." Mark said, letting go of Roger's hand and hopping off the table. Roger felt deflated as he sighed and followed Mark. He was planning to do this, but he should have thought ahead. _I should have confessed the second thing first._ Roger thought with a sigh, and went over to his resting guitar.

He sat down softly on the couch, with Mark settling in the recliner, and there was a slight awkward silence until Roger talked. "It's still a bit rough...please be honest about what you think." Roger whispered, placing his calloused fingers on the right first notes. And slowly he began.

"_I'm not a perfect person  
There's many things I wish I didn't do  
But I continue learning  
I never meant to do those things to you  
And so I have to say before I go  
That I just want you to know_

I've found a reason for me  
To change who I used to be  
A reason to start over new  
and the reason is you." 

Mark stared at Roger, looking slightly shocked. Roger realized slowly that Mark just realized that this song was _his_. It was written specifically for _him_. Roger knew that Mark was looking at this song in a new light, so Roger knew that he had to perfect this song now.

"_I'm sorry that I hurt you  
It's something I must live with every day  
And all the pain I put you through  
I wish that I could take it all away  
And be the one who catches all your tears."_

Mark kept staring at Roger, though his face was expressionless. Roger was slightly worried about that, but he carried on.

"_That's why I need you to hear  
I've found a reason for me  
To change who I used to be  
A reason to start over new  
and the reason is you [x4]_

I'm not a perfect person  
I never meant to do those things to you  
And so I have to say before I go  
That I just want you to know!"

Roger sang passionately, staring right into Mark's eyes now. Mark stared back, and Mark noticed something flicker in his eyes. Love? Adoration? He couldn't make it out. But he knew it was loving. Roger slightly smiled, and kept playing.

"_I've found a reason for me  
To change who I used to be  
A reason to start over new  
and the reason is you_

I've found a reason to show  
A side of me you didn't know  
A reason for all that I do  
And the reason is you." 

Roger finished, the last note hanging in the air. Everything was silent in the loft now, and Mark looked away. But Roger didn't miss the shock written on his face. Roger was now fully worried, and placed his old guitar gently beside him, before moving forward to touch Mark. But Mark fought away, and was gasping slightly. _No...he...no love...he can't love...he can't love someone like me...no one loves me...no one can love me..._he was on the edge of the couch now, and Roger froze where he was, even though his hand was outstretched.

"Mark?" he asked.

But all he got from Mark was him repeating over and over again, "No, no, no, no, no..."

"Mark!" Roger called, and that got Mark to turn around. Mark turned, blinked once...twice...and then swiftly stood up, startling Roger. Mark started ramble to himself, something about how late it was and how tired he felt, but Roger was having none of it. Mark began to walk to his door quickly, but Roger was off and running in an instant, catching Mark and turning him if one swift move.

"Mark...I need to tell you something...something I've kept hidden...something I've always felt for you, but something I've always pushed away for a girl, or kept hidden. Mark...Mark...Mark...Mark...Mark... Dammit, you have to stop doing this to me...Look..." Roger rambled, while Mark stood there, still as a statue, taking in Roger's every move, every word, every tremble.

_Oh fuck, he's not gonna...no..._

"Mark," Roger whispered, fighting against his nervous habit and trembling all the while, "_I should tell you...I should t-tell you...I love you."_

And with that, Roger leaned in and kissed his best friend.

**Ooh, the drama! Wow, this turned out longer then I thought it would be. Oh, I bet you hate me right now...MWAHAHAHA! **

**Oh yeah, this story is coming to an end soon. 2-5 more chapters, 7 more tops. Yes, I know how sad you all are because of this.**

**R&R everyone!**


	15. Confessions and Hope

**Thx for the reviews everyone! I enjoy hearing what you guys have to say! And please people, continue to R&R! I want that 60! Anyway, enjoy! And for those who are confused with Mark's reaction, read the whole chapter and then read the explanation at the end**

_**Recap:**_

"_**Mark," Roger whispered, fighting against his nervous habit and trembling all the while, "**_**I should tell you...I should t-tell you...I love you."**

_**And with that, Roger leaned in and kissed his best friend.**_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But within seconds of beginning the kiss, Mark pushed Roger back, with surprising force of someone who hasn't eaten in 3 days. When Roger got a good look at Mark's face, he knew he was in trouble. He has only seen this face a few times in withdrawal, one or two times after withdrawal, and occasionally when the two were talking about drugs and April before withdrawal.

Roger hadn't particularly missed that look.

"How _dare _you, Roger! How do you _fucking _dare? You _asshole!" _Mark yelled backing up. But Mark didn't look disgusted, and he didn't wipe off his mouth like Roger thought he would. He actually looked like he enjoyed the kiss for a split second. _So what's wrong?...Maybe I've hurt him too much. Maybe he can't fall for me because I hurt him beyond repair...Oh shit...Maybe he only had friendly feelings, and I just killed our friendship... no, don't think that way. There's has to be a rational explanation._

Roger's prayers for an explanation were heard, because a few seconds later he was answered.

"You can't just _kiss _me if you don't have feelings for me! Don't do it if you pity me for my newly found AIDS, or pity me for being homeless for the past 2 days. Don't you _dare_ kiss me, touch me, love me, unless you fucking mean it. Which you _never _will, 'cause _no one _could ever love _me_." Mark cried, backing away from Roger with every word, until he was at his own door.

Roger stared in slight shock at Mark. _No one could ever love him? What does he think I feel for him? Even before I confessed my love? Brotherly affection? God, I can't let him think this._ Roger thought, coming forward too.

"Mark, I didn't do that because I _pity _you. I _love _you Mark. With my entire being. I can't imagine my life without you—"

"No." Mark whispered, shaking his head and backing up more.

"Why do you think I stopped you from committing suicide 3 months ago? I _care _about you Mark...and it was only recently did I realize that I care for you so much _more _then I would for a friend. I _love _you Mark—"

"No..._no..._" Mark kept muttering, his back against his door.

"And saying no over and over again won't stop my feelings for you! Denying my feelings for you won't stop them from happening. Nothing can stop it...unless you say you don't feel anything for me. If _you _only care for me as a friend, then I'll back off. I'll even move out if it gets too awkward for you," Mark eyes widened at Roger, indicating that there was no way in hell would he _ever _let Roger leave because of him, "I just want to know your feelings Mark. Tell me, _please_." Roger begged.

Everything was suddenly silent, but Roger's confession rang in Mark's ears.

_I should tell you...I should t-tell you...I love you._

He couldn't believe it. Sure, he always wished for Roger's love, but he always assumed he's love Mimi 'til the day he died, even though she died. Never did Mark ever imagine, ever _hope _that Roger would feel the same way. And now that he supposedly did, Mark couldn't believe it.

_It's just impossible...impossible..._impossible...Mark thought over and over again, not even noticing when he started to mutter it. Roger kept eyeing Mark, as if he was a time bomb. Finally, when Mark didn't answer for over 10 minutes, Roger began to move forward, towards Mark who was leaning against the door.

"No...no...no..._no..."_Mark whispered, shaking his head as he slid to the floor. Roger came over quickly, only stopped a few feet from Mark's shaking and suddenly crying figure. Mark didn't even feel the tears coming to his eyes before they were rolling down his cheeks. Roger kneeled down in front of Mark, and stared at him with slightly widened eyes. Mark was slightly shocked that Roger was remaining so calm, while _he _was the one sobbing and breaking down.

Finally, after much obvious hesitation, Roger reached out, and tried to grasp Mark's quivering shoulder. When Mark flinched away, Roger tried to hide the hurt on his face.

But he didn't succeed.

Mark saw it, and he instantly felt guilty and horrible. _How could I? I love him, and I'm hurting him as well...God, what type of friend am I?I don't deserve him as a friend...he's just trying to help...he doesn't deserve me...He deserves someone else..._Mark whimpered, and brought his knees to his chest.

Roger stared at Mark in wonder and in shock. This was the last reaction he expected from him. Roger expected some anger, and maybe _some _shock, but not flat out denial and complete shock. It kind of hurt him in a way. Roger cared about Mark so much...and Mark was denying it. Mark was flat out upset over the fact that Roger liked him. Roger could hardly believe it.

But Roger also knew that Mark's reaction couldn't have been healthy. Flat out denial? Thinking he doesn't deserve it? It definitely wasn't right, no matter which way you put it.

"Mark?" Roger asked, restraining himself from touching Mark. _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe it was too soon..._

_Forget regret, or life is yours to miss_

_It's kind of hard to not regret your actions when you hurt your best friend because of them. _Roger thought, looking at Mark intently.

Mark looked up, with wide eyes. For the second time that night (well, _morning_), Mark resembled a child. His eyes were wide and shiny, and his hair was a mess, which made him look like a child who just woke up from a nightmare. Roger lifted his hand to wipe away Mark's tears, but he stopped himself before he could. He knew that he couldn't do it, or he would risk Mark's...well, sanity basically.

"Mark? Breathe okay?" Roger whispered, realizing slowly but surely that Mark was having a panic attack. He had to deal with a lot of those during Mimi's withdrawal, and when Maureen died.

Mark closed his eyes, and began to breathe through his nose. Roger sighed in relief, thankful that Mark was listening. Roger took his place on the floor, and sat there with his legs crossed, watching Mark intently. All the while Mark tried to calm himself down. And it began to work. His shaking slowed, the tears stopped, and his breathing became regular again.

20 minutes later, Mark was completely calmed, and Roger was still sitting there, watching Mark intently for signs of another panic attack.

Mark slowly opened his eyes, and looked at Roger. _God, I hope I didn't freak him out too much...I just acted like such a girl again. I freaked out over nothing. Just, keep breathing, keep breathing. _Mark thought, looking deep into Roger's emerald eyes. Both of them stared at each other for a couple of seconds, emerald meeting sapphire, nature meeting ice, worry meeting calm, not knowing what to say or do. But Mark made sure it didn't last long.

Mark moved forward, and suddenly Mark was hugging Roger with all his strength (which wasn't a lot since he pretty much used a lot of his strength to push Roger before, and he was totally spent from his panic attack from before). Roger, who suddenly had Mark in his arms, took his time to respond, and when he finally did his encircled his arms around Mark's tiny waist.

"I'm sorry Roger, I'm so sorry..." Mark repeated over and over again in his ear, and Roger began to worry. _Oh God, what did I do to him?_

"Shh, shh, it's okay Mark. Shh, relax. You didn't do anything." Roger whispered, rubbing Mark's back.

"But I did...I hurt you." Mark whispered, tears coming back. "Hey...hey!" Roger cried, forcing Mark to look at him when Mark tried to hide his face, therefore his tears. Mark looked up at him, looking upset again. "You did not hurt me okay? I'm fine. I'll get over this, okay? Just forget I ever said anything, okay?" Roger whispered, thinking that Mark was apologizing for feeling nothing but friendship for Roger. _I should have known...I should`ve just dropped hints, not blurted it out...now I`ll have to deal with heartbreak again. _Roger thought, fighting against tears.

Mark looked at Roger, realizing this, looked up at him and instantly set him straight. "No, no, Roger...I-I...Roger...I`m not apologizing for not loving you...Because I do...I-I—" Mark was interrupted by Roger's wide eyes, and crooked smile. A smile that was _real_. And Mark was proud he made that smile happen.

Roger started to do a mental happy dance. _I love Mark...and he loves me back! _Roger's grin became bigger, _I can be with him...and I won't have to worry about AIDS or HIV...I won't have to worry about infecting him...all I'll have to worry about his him...no, I won't think about that now. That's for a later day. _He was so happy, he was afraid he would act like a total chick and freak out.

Which he wouldn't of course.

Roger slowly started to lean in, probably to kiss Mark again, but Mark placed a small hand on Roger's chest to keep him at bay.

"I-I love you, Roger. But, I'm afraid it's t-t-too soon for kissing and touching and h-holding. You'll have to wait a bit longer. Let my heart m-mend first, and then we can do those things. Okay?" Mark asked. Roger nodded, though most of his smile was now gone. _Basically what you're saying Mark is I've hurt you too much to love me and trust me completely yet...but I will help you heal Mark, I promise. _Roger thought, as Mark reached for his hand and held it. Roger smiled back, and squeezed.

But Roger knew that for now, that was good. Holding hand with his lover was good enough.

**Explanation: Okay, to those who don't understand the reason for Mark's panic attack, it's this; Over the years, Mark's been able to convince himself that nobody could love him (even Roger) so being alone wouldn't hurt so much, and so he wouldn't get hurt. Then, Roger admits that he loves him after all these years. Now, Mark's happy about that of course, and he wants to be with him, but he also knows that if does become Roger's lover, he is more vulnerable if Roger dies or gets sick. Also, he's afraid to trust and love Roger fully, because he would get hurt if Roger left or died.**

**The reason why he bounced back towards the end was because Roger was able to calm Mark down and see rationally (and he was able to stop Mark's panic attack). Mark realized in the end that he was going to be hurt anyway so might as well love and be with Roger for his last months or years.**


	16. A messed up breakfast

**Sorry, for the long wait, but I got a roadblock. But good news is I think this is my longest chapter! :D yay for me! And thanks for all the support everyone! I appreciate all the reviews I've gotten!**

**WARNING: The beginning might be a little confusing...**

**Enjoy and R&R!**

"Ooh! YAY! They're finally going to get together! I knew from the moment I saw those two together that they'd make _the cutest _couple!" the angel known as Maureen cried.

"HEY! That's my ex we're talking about!" Mimi cried, crossing her arms. "Yah, well Marky's my ex too, but I'm willing to admit that they're _perfect _for each other." Maureen said, drawing out the _perfect_. Mimi scoffed, and looked away angrily. She couldn't help being jealous. When she was alive, she loved Roger with all her heart. And now...she realized her own lover loved Mark the whole time. Even if Roger didn't know it.

"Chica, relax. He needed to find someone to make him happy for his last years...or months. He would've rotted in the loft without someone to hold, and you know this. He needs Mark, probably more than Mark needs him." Angel the angel said, touching Mimi's dazzling hair softly.

"I don't know about that babe. That albino pumpkin head needs that moody, screwed up rocker a lot. I mean, with all the crap Mark's been through, he's going to need someone to lean on. That boy can't be the rock all the time when he has a chewy center." Collins said, with a casual smile and a long drag of his smoke **(A/N sorry to all the Christians out there, but there has got to be marijuana for Collins up in heaven!)**_. _

"A chewy center?" Mimi asked with a laugh. Collins and Angel ignored her, and Mimi pouted slightly.

"Yah, true enough. They need each other." Angel admitted, coming over and getting comfortable in Collins' arms. Collins held her, and smiled, like he used to do in life. He had missed this the months they were apart.

"Yep, and neither me nor Mo get anybody until Benny or Jo dies!" Mimi said with a pout. Maureen suddenly purred and gave Mimi sexy and teasing eyes. Mimi's eyes widened before she realized it was a joke, and then she moved to sit over with Collins and Angel. "Don't even kid Mo." Mimi said, crossing her arms.

Collins and Angel laughed silently, and Mimi just rolled her eyes and leaned against Angel.

"_Take me baby, or leave me!" _Maureen sang dramatically.

"Save it for Joanne. Eternal life in heaven has bound to have _millions _of breakups. Unless they transfer you to Hell before she comes." Mimi said smartly, slightly smirking. Maureen pouted slightly, and Mimi laughed. "I'm joking Mobo. Just joking." Mimi laughed, coming over and slinging her healthy looking arms around Maureen's shoulders.

Maureen smirked and wrapped her arms around Mimi. "I forgive you Meems."

"Wait a minute; you said you guys won't have anyone until Benny of Jo dies. Not Roger." Collins said, finally clicking into the conversation. Mimi sighed, and went back over to lean on Angel's shoulder.

"Well, Mark has him now. And I believe it when you guys say that this is the real deal. I never was. I just got him out of the house. I was a puppy love, or a summer fling, whichever you prefer." Mimi shrugged, looking sad but decided.

"Chica—"Angel whispered.

"No 'chica' me. It's true, and you all know it. That's love right there, even I know it. When Roger comes up here, he won't be thinking of me in the slightest. Sure, he'll say hi and go through the motions and stuff, but I'll know who he's waiting for. He loves Mark. I was a fling. I mean, he's never looked, or acted the way he does with Mark when he was with me." Mimi stated, and all 4 angels knew it was the truth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first thing that Mark was aware of was the smell of eggs.

Mark softly groaned as he was brought out of his blessed dreamland and was brought back to the messy loft. He was now aware of the smell of eggs, a blanket on him, and a very annoying light coming from somewhere far off. Mark groaned again, and dug his head into the uncomfortable thing he was laying on. He was so _tired_.

He tried to remember when and how he fell asleep last night. But he drew up a blank. Hell, he didn't remember much of last night period.

He remembered waking up after his "nap", going to make tea, and Roger confessing his...love. Mark slightly smiled. Roger loved him...Roger _loved _him! It took all of his strength to not act like a giddy school girl.

Then he remembered...freaking out. Mark frowned. Was that right? Did he _freak out_ over Roger loving him? That sounds about right...He freaked out, and broke down, and...had a panic attack. Roger calmed him, and then Mark admitted that he loved him too. And then holding hands, and—

Mark hissed and opened his tired eyes. As he tried to remember the other night, he absentmindedly pushed himself off his stomach and onto his side, and he used his forearms to do so. The pain that came from his forearms suddenly triggered another memory...cutting up his arm. Giving up and cutting. Right before his "nap". Mark grimaced at his cowardice. _How could I...after all I did to stop...what _we _did to stop. _Mark thought angrily at himself, laying his head back to look at his ceiling.

Which Mark slowly realized that wasn't his ceiling.

Mark looked around the room, suddenly realizing that the musical papers, dirty and crumpled clothing on the floor, and the sheet covered window wasn't his. In fact, the blanket and the bed under him wasn't his. This blanket was actually...warm. It wasn't filled with rips, and it wasn't thin. It was large and thick.

"Okay, I'm not in my room." Mark muttered, sitting up. He discovered that the annoying light came from the kitchen, and it came through the open door. Mark sighed, and pulled the large, warm blanket off of him reluctantly.

"Oh, you're awake."

Mark jumped slightly, and looked up to see a smiling Roger in the doorway. Mark smiled back, and stood up quickly, hoping that Roger wouldn't read into his wan smile.

"What am I doing in your room?" Mark asked as he made his way towards the door.

Roger moved out of his way, still smiling. "My room was the closest to the couch. At around 5 you just collapsed." Roger said.

Memories from the night before slowly came back to Mark's mind.

_After deciding that they'd wait a little while before they would become a "couple", they ended up on the couch and just...talking. Like they used to a long time ago. They talked about everything and nothing, from music to parents, from Nannette Himmelfarb to the late Mimi Marquez. They talked and laughed and joked and cried for most of the night, as if they almost knew nothing about each other, even though they've known each other since they were in kindergarten. They talked like they did when they were both new in the city, staying up late and talking about their roommates Collins and Benny. At some point, Roger finally made Mark's tea, and they both just sat there talking for the rest of the night. _

_It was nice. _Mark thought, his cut-up arm forgotten. He smiled softly, and passed Roger and went into the living room.

When he entered, the egg smell became stronger, and Mark sighed. It smelled so yummy. They rarely ever had something so good, especially eggs. They only treats they had these days was Captain Crunch and beer. Roger followed him quickly, and walked headlong into the kitchen.

"What are you making?" Mark asked, though it was obvious.

"You're favourite breakfast. Eggs and peanut butter toast." Roger said, his smile widening at the thought of doing something nice for Mark. Mark of course plastered on a smile, but really he was cringing on the inside.

Eggs and peanut butter toast _was not _his favourite breakfast. In fact, he was allergic to peanuts. _How the hell could he forget?_ _Maybe because I used to suck it up and eat it when Rog made it before withdrawal. Well, I ate the eggs. I guess a year and withdrawal can make you forget things. _Mark thought, referring to the year apart when Mark went off to Brown and Roger left for New York.

Roger, of course, noticed Mark lack of response, and looked up at him as he scrambled the eggs. Mark was smiling, but Roger knew it was forced.

"What's up?" Roger asked, continuing to scramble the eggs.

_I guess I should him tell him before he gets me into a coma, _Mark thought, _no day but today._ "Um...Rog...um, I hate to tell you this, but...peanut butter toast isn't a part of my favourite breakfast." Mark said simply, his voice shaking a little bit. He hated to get people mad, or when people do something right, and he has to tell them they're wrong. It was a horrible feeling.

All the while, Roger stared Mark with a frown. "What? I was sure—"

"Well, I like eggs, but I kind of can't eat peanuts. I'm allergic to them, so it'd be kind of hard to love a food that could kill you." Mark said with a smile, trying to lighten up the scene. But Roger was having none of it. He was clearly upset because he didn't know his best friend's—_lovers'_, Mark reminded himself—favourite breakfast.

"Fuck, really? I had _no idea. Fuck!_" Roger cried in disbelief, taking the eggs off the stove and slamming it on the counter.

"Rog, relax. It's fine. I don't remember yours too. See, now both of us are stupid for not remembering." Mark lied with a smile, grabbing onto Roger's forearms. The truth was Mark's known Roger's favourite breakfast ever since their sleepover from 2nd grade when Mrs. Cohen asked Roger what it was so she could make it. Bacon and a PB & J sandwich. Roger and Mark both knew that Mark was lying. But Roger acted as if he didn't notice and smiled slightly.

"Its bacon and a PB & J sandwich." Roger said with a crooked smile, playing along. He took his arms from Mark's hands, and, with a little bit of hesitation, came forward and hugged Mark gently. Mark hugged him back, smiling slightly.

"Sorry I freaked out. I just wanted this to be _perfect_. Well, I screwed up, didn't I?" Roger laughed, though it sounded strained.

"Rog, it's okay. You made breakfast, and a good-looking one at that, so relax. You did a good job. It's perfect." Mark said, pulling away and smiling at Roger.

This time when Roger smiled, it was a real smile, like the one he gave Mark the other night. "Thanks. C'mon." Roger whispered with a small smile, indicating he wanted Mark to go to the metal table. Mark walked over quickly to the metal table, trying to show how excited he was for such a feast. Roger laughed under his breath, and quickly went to serve breakfast.

A couple of minutes later, both men sat at the metal table, side by side, with eggs piled on their plates and coffee in front of them. It was silent, but it was a comfortable silence. They ate quickly, knowing that this was probably going to be one of their last good meals in awhile.

"Hey, where did you get these eggs anyway?" Mark asked, quickly eating some more.

"Lisa. She stopped by this morning. I had to practically restrain her from jumping onto my bed and waking you." Roger said with a smile. It was partly true. She did bring the eggs, and she did want to wake him, but he didn't have to restrain her. Once he told her that they both had a rough night the night before, she shut up and left.

Mark laughed, and took a sip of coffee. "That sounds like Lisa."

"Yep. She's like a miniature Maur—" Roger tried to stop, but it was too late. He bit his lip, and looked at Mark, expecting a break down.

But what he did see surprised him.

He saw...nothing.

No sadness, no regret, no pain, no tears..._nothing._ And, funny thing was, he wasn't detaching either. He just looked...normal.

A couple moments passed in silence, and Roger looked intently at his food. He was tense, just waiting for the sobbing or the heavy breathing or some sort of indication that he was going to panic.

"Look, Rog. It's okay. You can say her name. I'm fine. It hurt like hell when she...passed. But I'm okay. It still hurts, but I can live. If you can live through the deaths of two girlfriends, then I can live through the death of an ex's." Mark sighed, standing up to walk to the kitchen.

That's when everything went wrong.

"Mark, wait—" Roger started, grabbing Mark's forearm. The one that had the deep, and painful-to-the-touch, cuts on it. The sudden grabbing made Mark hiss, and Roger frowned slightly.

It took a moment for Mark to realize he completely and totally messed up.

"M-Mark...what's wrong with your arm?" Roger asked his frown deepening as he gazed at Mark's forearm. "N-N-N-Nothing. I'm going to take a sh-shower." Mark stuttered, trying to yank his arm away. But Roger's grip tightened, making Mark clench his teeth from the pain that flared.

Inside, Mark was freaking. He felt like he was going to cry. _He wasn't supposed to find out...not when everything's going well and everything's out in the open...I should've told him last night...I should've. _Mark thought, his panic slowly growing with every second Roger's frown stayed on his face.

"Mark? I feel a bandage under here." Roger asked, confused and slightly angry.

"N-No. T-There's not-nothing," Mark whispered, trying to pull away again. He only succeeded in a tightening grip, "Roger, p-please loosen your grip."

Roger did just that, and Mark sighed in relief...until he realized that Roger was pulling up his sleeve. "R-Rog, what're you doing?" Mark asked, "D-Don't, please."

But Roger didn't listen. Instead he quickened his pace. He quickly rolled up the sleeve, and began on the makeshift bandage. "Rog—" Mark protested, trying to get away from Roger's quick hands. But Roger only grabbed his pale wrist with the other hand, and kept going on the bandages. That's when Mark realized that there was no way out of this. All Mark could do was stand there, waiting for the anger, or the betrayal, or the pain to cross Roger's face. Wait for the guilt and the pain that was sure to come.

Finally, after many emotional seconds, Roger was on the last wrap. Roger suddenly slowed when he got to it, and stared slightly at it. After this, there would be no going back. Everything was going to change again, and it was going to be a rough and painful ride. But Roger couldn't back down now, no matter how much he wanted to.

He lifted the last of the bandage, and angry welts met him. There was so many, and some of them were beginning to scar. Some were long but shallow, but some were short and deep. Roger couldn't believe Mark was able to do this with him in the next room.

"Mark..." Roger whispered, taking them all in. _There's so many Mark..._

That one word sent Mark's tears flying. "I'm s-sorry...I d-don't know...I-I mean...I-I...I'm so s-s-s-sorry." Mark sobbed, shaking slightly. Roger just looked at him, and Mark could read 3 emotions in Roger's emerald eyes; shock, anger, and disappointment. Mark couldn't figure out if Roger was disappointed in him or himself.

Then finally, after many long seconds, Roger let go of Mark's wrist and stood up. Then, without a word to Mark, he swiftly walked away and into his room. When Roger's door slammed, Mark's tears came even more quickly, and before Mark knew it he was on the floor, sobbing.

He messed everything up

**All I have to say is AWWWW! POOR MARKY! Man, I put that boy through way too much lol**

**Oh yes, on a side note, I'm afraid that there is only 3 or 4 chapters left in this story :( But that's okay, because my mind is a-brewing, and hey...another sequel might be in order *wink wink nudge nudge***


	17. Leaving the past behind

**Hey everyone! This may or may not be the last instalment. An Epilogue may be put up...so keep an eye out! And a sequel WILL BE done, but I have to say it might take a few weeks for me to get ideas together and actually write it down :)**

**Anyway, review and tell me what you think!**

_**Recap:**_

_**Then finally, after many long seconds, Roger let go of Mark's wrist and stood up. Then, without a word to Mark, he swiftly walked away and into his room. When Roger's door slammed, Mark's tears came even more quickly, and before Mark knew it he was up in one of the loft's corners, sobbing. **_

_**He messed everything up**_

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**(A few seconds later after Roger slammed the door) **

Roger leaned against the door, and sank to the floor. He wasn't going to cry...he didn't need to. He was more disappointed than sad.

He was disappointed for numerous reasons; Mark giving up, Mark hurting himself and not telling, Mark..._Cut the bullshit, Davis. You're not only disappointed in him._ Roger's inner voice hissed and Roger had to agree with it. He wasn't just disappointed by Mark...he was disappointed in himself too. He was disappointed that he didn't realize something was wrong; he was disappointed that he didn't knock the door down when Mark didn't answer it. _God, I'm so fucking naive...fuck..._Roger thought, banging his head slightly on the door.

As he did, he slowly heard small sounds coming from outside the door.

He straightened up a little bit, and put his ear against the door. He could hear muffled sobs coming from the other side of the door, and Roger had to restrain himself from banging his fist against the floor and from banging his head into the wall. _He _had caused those stupid tears...He had a right to be mad at Mark of course; Mark did promise he would never do it again like Roger had promised with heroin...but he couldn't help but being saddened by the whole ordeal.

_Please stop crying Mark...please..._Roger thought, still listening to Mark's tears. All Roger wanted to do was rush out there, take Mark in his arms, and comfort him. He wanted to hold Mark, and tell him that everything would be alright. Everything would work out...everything's alright and he wasn't mad at him...But a voice spoke at the back of Roger's mind, and Roger couldn't ignore it...

_But it's not alright._

It wasn't alright Mark had to hurt himself so he could lessen his inner pain. It wasn't alright that Roger didn't notice the signs. It wasn't alright that Mark gave up the fight. It wasn't alright that Mark felt any pain at all. Out of all the people in New York..._no, the world. _Roger thought, _Out of all the people in the world, Mark deserves everything he wants and more. _He deserved freaking Sainthood, or whatever sainthood represented in the Jewish community, from what he had to deal with all of his life. From a violent Roger during withdrawal to a dying Angel who was died way too early...to get AIDS when he was finally getting better. And to barely be 22-24 while going through all of that...

_Jesus_. Roger thought, never realizing how old Mark actually was. _God, he's like...24 right now! And in two months he's going to be 25...25!_

Roger ran his hands through his hair. He hated that his and Mark's life was so fucked up. It shouldn't be, because their life was already too fucked up in the beginning. Now...Roger sighed and placed his head in his hands. He could finally see the light in the drama tunnel, and then...BAM! Mark's cutting again. He didn't know what to do...he helped Mark get over the cutting...and now Mark was right back where he started...

_Actually, he's not back where he started, because he started as a suicidal friend who needed help from his best friend. Now he's a hurting...lover...who needs me more than ever. I don't know why he needs my help, but he needs me...And I'm in _here, the_ place where he isn't, almost in tears..._Roger thought, feeling wetness in his eyes when he wiped them.

Suddenly, he found himself standing up and away from the door, the last sentence he thought repeating over and over in his head. _He needs me...And I'm in _here_, the place where he isn't..._

He found himself grabbed the door, and yanking it open almost angrily. _Or crazily_. Roger thought, his eyes looking around the living room. The sight that was waiting for him stopped him in his tracks.

There was Mark in the kitchen, leaning against the wall, sobbing heavily. Roger was slightly aware of the fact that in the last four months, he had seen Mark break down a total of 6 times. 3 times during Mark's withdrawal from cutting and booze, once when Roger saved Mark from jumping off the ledge of the building, last night, and now. And Roger slowly realized that every single time that happened, he had been there to hold Mark as he cried.

The chain shouldn't be stopped now.

Roger slowly walked towards an unknowing Mark, who attempted to hold himself and rock himself (he was pretty much attempting to comfort himself), probably to make up for the missing comfort. Mark didn't realize Roger had left his room until Roger was kneeling beside him.

Mark flinched when he realized Roger was right beside him, and Mark tried to move away from him. "Oh Mark..." Roger whispered, placing his calloused hand on Mark's shoulder to keep him where he was. That stopped Mark in his tracks and he looked up at Roger. The tear trails were obvious, and his eyes were big and shiny. He looked like he was about to start sobbing again.

"Mark...Please, stop trying to move. Let me talk to you." Roger whispered, sitting down. Roger slowly realized as he did so that in every instance in which Mark cried, Roger was always the calm one. It was hard to believe, that only a couple months ago, when Mimi passed, it was the opposite.

"What is it Rog? D-Do you want me t-to l-l-leave? I'll leave...Or you can leave...Or-or—"But Roger didn't let him finish. Roger put one shaking finger on Mark's lips, stopping the filmmaker's ramblings.

"Mark, I promised I wouldn't leave. I can't—I couldn't leave again. I wouldn't even if I could. And you're definitely not leaving. Both of us are staying here...I want to talk to you. Why did you do..._these?_" Roger whispered, pointing to the wounds that were still visible.

Mark looked...there were no words to describe how he looked. He looked...strong, yet he looked like a child. His tears for the most part were gone. They left-tears tracks in their place, which Roger made no move to wipe away. His eyes showed his confusion; despite the fact he was obviously trying to hide it.

"I...I don't know. I was just...upset. My past caught up with me I guess." Mark whispered, trying to smile, but failing miserably under Roger's hard stare.

"Mark, I'm not going to say it's horrible to hate your past...I've had my share of wallowing over the fact that the universe didn't let me become a rock star, or a king, all rich and mighty. But what I am going to say that it was _horrible _to cut yourself up like you have recently and in the past. You have to stop. For real now." Roger said, kneeling right in front of Mark, as if to make sure Mark wouldn't look away.

"But when I stopped 3 months ago, I was for real. I just—"

"I know, you had a relapse. I can understand. You were the only thing that got in my way when I was in withdrawal. If you weren't there, I would've drugged up myself so bad I would've OD'd. With you, it's...cutting." Roger struggled with the word _cutting_. "And like drugs, this could kill you. It's might not seem like it, but it's true. You and I both know this. One little slip, one little flick of the wrist, and you're dead. And that's the last thing I want happening, okay?" Roger asked, placing his hands on either side of Mark's face.

Mark nodded slightly, closing his eyes. "No more." He whispered, grabbing Roger's hands and holding them tightly. Roger smiled, and kissed Mark on the forehead.

Then suddenly, Mark eyes opened and he stood up abruptly, without warning. Roger looked up confused, and watched as Mark walked to his room. Roger was on his feet quickly, and ran into the room after Mark, making sure that Mark couldn't slam the door in his face.

But by the looks of things, Mark wasn't even thinking about it.

Roger stood in the doorway as Mark zigzagged around the room, gathering stuff in his arms. Roger stared confusedly at Mark. _What the hell is he doing? What could possibly—_

"Rog, can you start a fire?"

"Um, but it's pretty much spring Mark—"Roger started, pointing to the window as if he didn't see that most of the snow was gone already.

"Please, just do it." Mark whispered, still gathering things.

"Okay..."he whispered, kind of afraid to leave Mark alone. But Mark didn't even look up; instead he kept bee-lining around the room.

Roger left the room reluctantly, and did what Mark ordered him to. He went over to their "illegal wood-burning stove", which thankfully still had wood from the winter. He quickly lit it with his last match, something he was not fond of because now they didn't have an extra for emergencies.

Suddenly, Mark came out from his room, with a small pile in his arms. Roger stared at the pile in concentration, and he froze when he realized what Mark had.

Mark held a couple of bloody cloths, some bloody bandages, and finally a knife that glinted in the sun and in the firelight.

Mark strode to the fire swiftly, and without any uncertainty he threw _everything_ that was in that pile into the fire. The fire consumed it, and the flames rose quickly. Mark watched the flames intently, watching his past burn. Roger watched Mark intently, watching the flames reflect in Mark's glasses. Roger couldn't contain his smile. He was so proud of his Mark...Mark finally rose above his past, something that Roger sometimes struggled with.

Mark suddenly looked up and gave a tired yet happy smile at Roger. And for once in a long time, it was real. Roger's smile got even bigger. Mark slowly moved over to the side of the fire where Roger was on, and took Roger's hand and held on tightly. He still watched the fire, but he couldn't miss Roger's happy laugh when he gave Roger's hand a slight squeeze.

So the two lovers stood there, watching the fire in front of them. They stood there hand-in-hand as Mark's past burned to the ground. They both knew that the past could no longer creep up behind them and choke them until they fell. The past couldn't tear them apart anymore.

They were going to leave the past behind...together.

**Is this the end? Does it sound like the perfect ending for this story? Will there be an Epilogue? Questions, questions...Please review! :P **

**And if there is no epilogue, then THE END! :)**


	18. AN

Hello everyone! No, this is not the Epilogue you wanted (wait, don't be upset yet!), instead I have decided to write another *drumroll*...SEQUEL! *fans cheer like crazy*. It's up right now, all you have to to do is go to my profile, and search my stories for the new Sequel called _Bright Light_.

And of course, you know what to do after you read? (For you slow ones this is what you do: REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!)

So go now and enjoy it :)


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